Dancing On the Winding Road
by Otter Child
Summary: One of The Doctor's many adventures; the TARDIS gets its coordinates a bit wrong,landing on idyllic Fanti-Havi. But this world holds things that have been long forgotten, things both good and ill.Dancing, chaos and a good deal of trouble result
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: For those of you who've been reading this, I'm heartily sorry! I just realized while posting that a lot of formatting disappears in the process. I usually separate my scenes with paragraph changes and line spacing. Oops! Forgive the new-to-fanfic!! So, this should make a bit more sense now. _

_Thanks .Enjoy. _

1

Darkness. The silence was deep, absolute as the peace of deep space. Rose snuggled further into the warmth of her blankets. Her pale hair shone in the darkness, tumbled over the pillow. She sighed in her sleep. Her body felt the thrum of engines deep below her, and as she dreamed it became the lapping of a calm sea, waves breaking soft and slow against the…CRASH!

Rose sat up in bed, her own breathing harsh in her ears. What was that? Had they hit something? Wake up. No. They'd never hit anything before. Never…

Another crash; a sound like a bomb in a broom closet. Rose pulled herself out of bed, stumbling for the door. The walls suffused themselves with a dim light as her feet hit the floor, allowing her to navigate around her cast-off trainers and jeans. She stuck her head out of the door, the lace on her night gown ruffling as she peered up and down the corridor.

"Doctor?"

Another prolonged crash, and the Doctor stumbled out of a room several doors down the corridor, rubbing the side of his head. He winced, giving the room a hurt look.

"Ooh, decidedly _not _pleasant!" Hand against the side of his head, he turned. And his thin face broke into a grin.

"Hello! I thought you were snug in bed!"

Rose couldn't help but smile in return.

"I was, 'til you got to mucking about like a mad elephant. What time is it?"

The Doctor cocked his head."Time? Where?"

Rose rolled her eyes.

"Skip it. What… You're bleeding, y'know."

"Am I?" The Doctor put a hand to his temple, and winced again. Rose shook her head.

" 'Ere. Hold still."

Reaching in the velvet pocket of her night dress, she pulled out a linen handkerchief she'd found there earlier.

"Must have been that bust of Aristotle." Said the Doctor, holding his hands behind his back like a small boy as Rose dabbed at the long cut across his temple, lifting the mussed fringe of his hair to get at it. "Never did like him much. Nasty sort, him. Probably why I stuck the thing up out of the way."

"If the thing is made of stone," Rose muttered, "it really shouldn't get stuck up where it can fall."

The Doctor shrugged.

The handkerchief came away dotted with spots of bright, oddly orange-hued blood. Funny, Rose thought. All the things they got up to, all the times they'd been this close to dead, and she'd never seen so much as a scratch on the Doctor. But here he was, getting nearly brained by a trinket in his own TARDIS.

"And by the way, why were you pulling things down on yourself, hmm?"

"I was-ow!-I'm looking for a toolbox I stored back here. At least, I think it was back here. It was either the first or the third corridor on the left, I'm sure."

"I thought you said it was all bedrooms down this hall?"

"Nah, not all bedrooms. " The Doctor's eyes moved from door to door. "What'd you need that many bedrooms for? I stuck a few storage rooms down here too. Were you sleeping?"

Rose laughed. "I wouldn't be wearing this if I wasn't. Proper Victorian horror, this. Mind you, it's quite comfy."

The Doctor glanced at her, taking in the long green velvet and white lace.

"Oh, I don't know. Looks rather nice. Was high fashion when I picked it up. Idea for nightwear had just come over from India. Or was it Albania?" He ran a hand through his hair, making the dark spikes stand on end. "Always mix 'em up. Anyway…I think I just remembered!"

Spinning on his heel, he strode down the corridor. Rose hurried after him.

"I will say though, first proper night in a proper bed I've had in the TARDIS, and I don't get to enjoy even half of it. By the way; how come, in nearly eight months, you never told me you had bedrooms?"

The Doctor was glancing from door to door as he passed them, hands deep in the pockets of his dark suit. He cocked his head, thinking-then shrugged. "Didn't think of it, I suppose. But the second time you fell out of the chair in the console room-"

"When the TARDIS was shaking like billyoh-"

"Yep, second time you fell, I thought, that girl needs a proper old bed. Then I remembered. Like it?"

"Room's pretty posh." Rose replied, staring as they passed a bust of something like a cross between an elephant and a frog set in a niche in the wall, "Bit bare though."

"Bet you can change that fast enough. You ought to fix it up for yourself. We could pop back to London for some of those posters you love. Bring out the decorator in you. Right, here we are!"

Stopping in front of a door that looked, to Rose, like every other door in the hall, smooth and bronze-gold, he pushed it open.

"Ah. Apparently it's the spare parts I was keeping in here."

Rose peered in. The room was covered in row upon row of boxes, each labeled on the lid. She read 'Clock', 'Secondary Stabilizers', 'Kitchen Stove', 'Inductionary Thruster' and 'Bessie' at a glance. Littered here and there were bits that hadn't made it into their boxes; something that looked like a car's headlight, and a bundle of pinkish, organic-looking loops caught her eye. The Doctor closed the door.

"Must be the _third_ corridor on the left, then." He smiled at Rose, and strode past her.

"Allonsy!"

They spent more than an hour poking into a kaleidoscopic whirl of rooms. Rose had never realized how many rooms the TARDIS held before. Mostly they only used the bathroom, the huge clothes room that the Doctor called the Wardrobe, a small kitchen and a grand library besides the console room. She'd seen the halls going on, and wondered a bit. But now she had a feel for just how much _bigger_ it was inside than it seemed. And the variety! There was a laboratory that looked like a page out of Jules Verne, all oiled wood and gold, with modern bits of equipment interspersed with old-fashioned glass beakers and tools. They passed through two gigantic libraries, done in dark wood, on their way to somewhere else. There was a gallery where some of the art turned and looked at you, and even a room full of cricket gear, which made Rose burst out laughing.

"What?" said the Doctor, looking up from where he was fingering an old cricket batter's coat, "Don't fancy the good game?"

"Nah. Just…why in God's name have you got a cricket room?!"

"'Cos I love cricket, Rose! Used to play all the time! This way, I have the goods, I ever get a few friends together, we've got a ready-made match!"

He lifted the batter's hat and dropped it on his head, looking up at the brim that fell low over his brow.

"Once got in here to teach some Cheladons the game. Ever played with Cheladons? Eight arms and quick as anything. Made for one of the fastest matches I've ever played in. Put the Royal Leauge to shame!"

He grinned, swept the hat from his head, and left the room.

"Well, we've narrowed it down now."

"Just for a second," Rose said, following him down the hall, 'could you say _why_ we're trying to find this toolbox?"

"The third bathroom's faucet is leaking. I'll need a wrench and a set of washers to fix it. And my toolbox has just the ticket."

"A faucet leak?" Rose said, incredoulous. The Doctor glanced at her, noticing her expression.

"A leak that's been driving me around the bend; drip drip drip constantly. It'd bother you too if you could hear it all the time."

"And the sonic screwdriver can't do the job?"

The Doctor paused, giving her a skeptical look.

"The sonic screwdriver can't tighten a loose bolt, Rose. Fuse it to the metal around it, yes. Shake it out of its socket, yes. Dizzolve it, yes. But it's using vibrations, basically. It can't make something move in sequence."

"Then why's it called a screwdriver?"  
"Y'know, I don't know. That's a very good question, actually."

The Doctor was staring, rather vacantly, at a potted plant that appeared to be breathing. He gave himself a little shake, and looked at Rose, his dark eyes suddenly intense.

"I'm rather tired of all this hunting about. You?"

"Yeah." Rose smiled. Maybe the Doctor would give this whole thing up, and then she could go back to…

"Good. Hang on a tick."

The Doctor drew a breath, and closed his eyes. There was a tension in the air, a prickling on the skin something like the air before lightning strikes. And the Doctor's eyes snapped open.

"Right, that's got it. C'mon"

"What was that about?"Rose asked, keeping pace with him. The Doctor shrugged, his lips quirking up in one of his self-satisfied smiles.

"Just asking the TARDIS where the box is. The old girl's quite a bit more organized than I am."

"That's not exactly hard."

"Oi! You have more than nine hundred years of odds and ends, you'd have trouble keeping track too!"

He stopped suddenly, nearly making Rose run into him.

"Here we are!"

Behind the door was what appeared to be a work shop. The walls were covered with hooks and formed containers, filled with tools. Tables lined the walls. Here and there around the room, machines of all varieties sat ready for work. Rose noticed a scroll saw and something that might be a drill press, right next to something like a cross between a blender and a vacuum.

"We're in the work room." The Doctor announced, "Makes sense the tools would be in here!" Striding to the far wall, he opened a cupboard and began to dig through it.

Rose couldn't resist poking about as well. Here and there she saw bits of raw material; wood, plastic, glass, metals and a few bits that she couldn't identify at all. Walking between a band saw and a row of laser tools, her eye was caught by a pile of clothes lying in the corner; though everything else in the room was covered in what she assumed to be sawdust, the white gloves, pants, and tunics were spotless.

"These your work aprons?" she asked, holding up a shirt. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder.

"Self cleaning fabric. Absorbs all the mess. Cuts down wonderfully on the cleanup. Ah! The washers!"

He dived back in, muttering about the wrench.

Rose inspected the clothes. Self-cleaning? Wouldn't they have come in handy when she'd helped her mum paint the kitchen. Or when they'd redone the bedroom wall after that disastrous Christmas when the Doctor had regenerated. She lifted one of the white shirts, checking the fit.

Her hip nudged the pile as she moved, and the garments tumbled off their holder in a heap. Rose cursed. Now she'd have to fold everything up properly again, and she was a horror at folding. She started picking the bits up, muttering- and paused. Something else had fallen out between the white garments. A grey, long-sleeved tunic first, then a pair of pants, made from something that Rose assumed was Lycra. A funny little badge was pinned to the shirt's collar; something like a cross between a figure eight and a spiral, with little spirals extending from its waist. Rose held up the shirt, which looked like it would fit a twelve-year old.

"What's this, then? It's full of dust, so it can't be the self-cleaning stuff."

The Doctor glanced back, holding up a wrench. He'd probably enthuse about wherever it came from, and then they'd be off. He glanced at her… and stared. Jumping to his feet, he strode over and took the shirt in both his hands. Rose was taken aback; the Doctor was stiff, his brows drawn tight together. Slowly, his face worked itself into a look of shocked delight.

"Oh, _fantastic_! I haven't seen this in over two hundred years! I hadn't…" His wide eyes grew unfocused, and his smile faded slightly.

"Did you wear this when you were a kid?" Rose asked. "Bit small for you now."

The Doctor shook his head, his gaze fixed on the fabric.

"It wasn't mine."

Rose heard a note in his voice that made her pay attention. This must've been someone he'd liked. A half-smile played over his lips, and he ran the fabric through his fingers, still staring at it.

"It was Suzz's… Susan's. I'd almost forgotten that name she took up." He smiled to himself.

Rose lifted a little grey hat, which had fallen from the shirt pocket. "Who was she?" She asked, trying to be solicitous. There were a lot of things the Doctor ought to talk about, but he never would if you didn't ask him.

The Doctor looked up, and Rose was struck by the raw emotion in his eyes.

"Susan? She was my granddaughter."

Rose stared. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it.

"You were a granddad?"

The Doctor turned his head, fixing her again with that impossible depth of feeling.

"Yeah. Grandad at six hundred. A little young, I know. But my daughter… Well, she wanted kids. Only had the one, though."

"A granddad. Have trouble seeing that."  
And the Doctor was grinning again, cheeky as a kid. The way he switched emotions was scary sometimes.

"What, am I too bad an influence for small minds?"  
"No. -It's just-" Rose stared at the Doctor, trying to find words. He cocked his head, looking at her, probably reading her emotions. Damn. She had almost found the right words, when something fluttered out of the little hat. Rose caught it. A piece of paper. No, she realized; not a paper, a picture. An old photograph; or, at least, a photo from the nineteen-hundreds, all in black and white. In it, a girl of about fifteen sat, grinning, beside an old man in a long black coat who smiled the way you do when you really wish you weren't being photoed.

"Is this Susan?" she asked.

"Yes." Said the Doctor, looking at it.

"An' who's the old gent, her friend here?"

Again the Doctor grinned.

"Aw, that's me. Couldn't y'guess?"

"_You?!_ When?"

"Very first body. Oh, but I was the young and pompous one. Only six-fifty there see. Thought I knew it all. How things change, hmm?"

Rose didn't know what to say to that. Her eyes returned to the girl, smiling straight into the camera. She looked like she might have been one of Hollywood's child stars. It was weird thinking that she was around fifty, when Rose's instincts put her at sixteen, tops.

"She was very pretty. " Rose said, just to fill the silence. The Doctor was starting to look somber again. He smiled a little.

"Yes. She was."

Suddenly, his head came up, and he looked at Rose.

"Like to see her better? C'mon."

Still holding the shirt, he strode from the workroom. Rose grabbed the wrench and washers he'd set down, and followed him.

"Mind you," he said as they turned into another corridor, "I'm surprised her uniform's even here. Amazing it survived the old fire. Workroom door must've sealed itself. Hang on-" They turned a corner, cutting through a junk room into yet another hall.

"Fire?" Rose asked

"A fire in here. About fifty years back. Quite a bad one, actually. In here."

A fire in the TARDIS? Rose opened her mouth to ask about it. But what she saw through the door made the words catch in her throat. The floor of the room wasn't wood, grilling, gold-coral flooring, or even the sixtyish Formica that had plated the cricket room. It was covered in grass. Bright, vibrant, red grass. Grass that looked like it needed a trim. A breath wafted out of the room; the smell of a summer day, mixed with the scent of …cloves? Yes, cloves, and something else, both familiar and wholly- well, there was no other word for it- wholly alien.

The Doctor hadn't so much as paused, bounding across the room to a small hillock, which opened into drawers when he touched it. He glanced back, slipping on his glasses.

"Well, c'mon. Don't be letting in a draft."

Slowly, Rose stepped through the door. It closed behind her, leaving barely an outline. Somehow, through some trick, the grass was made to extend to a far horizon, meeting an orange sky dotted with pinkish-yellow clouds. Feeling heat, Rose looked up. Hanging in the sky was a mockup of two suns, one a red-yellow orb, the other a bright blue-white star, hanging at what Rose thought of as the noon position. She could even see a moon off to one side, shining a pale pink.

"What….what is this?"

"Hmm?" The Doctor glanced at her, then up where she was looking.

"Oh. My room."  
Rose stepped down. The grass sprang back underfoot.

"Is this grass- _grass_?

"What else would it be?" The Doctor said indistinctly, his head buried in the drawer he was digging through.

"I mean- is it alive?"

"Oh yes. I had some on board for the health benefits, and when I… well, after a while, I just got it growing in here. This and a few other things. Gives off an awfully nice smell, and it helps recycle the air."

He turned back to his digging, muttering and occasionally dropping cubes out onto the grass. Rose was standing quite still. She'd seen a lot with the Doctor. But this room was going to take getting used to. She looked around, noticing a thick, wide mat laid out in the grass. A set of shelves sat at one end, the cubbies filled with knick-knacks, books, and a few of the cubes like the ones the Doctor was pulling out.

"So, you sleep in here?"

"Erm…sort of, yeah."

"Sort of?"  
"I come in here when I need to rest, yes. Helps me feel myself. Here we go!"

He lined six of the cubes up. They looked like mahogany to Rose, save that their surfaces glistened with an iridescent sheen. The Doctor's long fingers flashed over the lids of the cubes. But they didn't open. Rose looked closer.

"Mind your eyes." The Doctor said.

From the lid of the first box shot a column of light. After a moment, it faded, leaving behind an image; a small girl with dark, bobbed hair, standing in front of a window that looked out on a field in shades of red and yellow. The grey of her tunic made her stand out like a beacon against the color. The image was so perfect that Rose instinctively reached out to touch it. The Doctor gently stopped her hand.

"Don't touch. Listen."

The girl, her little hat strapped far back on her head, had begun to speak.

"My learning companions." She announced in a high, lilting voice, "Today we shall discuss our futures. Will you choose a path? Will you remain on Gallifrey and become deeply attuned to her? Or will you sail the waves of stars?"

"What is this?" Rose said, whispering. The Doctor smiled.

"Her graduation, from- oh, secondary school I suppose you'd call it. She hated that speech."

He ran a thin finger over the lid, and the scene changed. The same girl was laughing with a woman in a high half-circle collar and an old man in a thick, billowy robe, wearing a collar that swept over his shoulders and a rather self-satisfied smile.

"Is that _you_?!" Rose asked. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Powers forgive me, it was. The Thoughtful One- that's my daughter, the lady there- she said that since we were in the City of High Innovation, we should dress properly. She liked to make a good impression." He paused, and busied himself with another cube.

"Had a lot of her mother in her, that way."

Rose watched the image of the Doctor bow stiffly to another Time Lord, as his granddaughter hurried on in front of her elegant mother.

"You were a right old stick, weren't you?"

"Me?" The Doctor laughed, his boyish face wry.

"I was a frightful old codger. Course, the others called me a renegade!"

Poking through the cubes like photo albums, Rose was fascinated. The reddish sun set in the north as they talked and exclaimed over the images. Rose asked and the Doctor answered, divulging more than he had ever given away about himself. And Rose could see why he missed his home so much. It really had been beautiful; the things made and the natural world had blended with near perfection. The small towns had been idyllic, and the larger cities, encased in great glassy spheres, had floated like bubbles above the grass or over the silver seas. The whitish sun sank in the east as they sat, and the red sun rose again in the south. That explained why the Doctor slept so little, Rose thought, glancing at her watch. The Gallifrey night hadn't been more than two hours in length. It was fascinating watching the world of Gallifrey through the sights of one family. But amazed as she was, Rose found herself nodding forward. She shook her head. The Doctor looked up, though for a moment Rose didn't think he could see her. His eyes were unfocused and fathomless; for a moment he looked his age, old and far away. Then he shook himself, and smiled.

"You're going to nod off in the hologram, aren't you?"

"Sorry."She said, sheepish. He shook his head.

"Can't apologize for your biology. Well, you can, but that's just silly."

He jumped to his feet, still holding one of the cubes.

"C'mon. I'll walk you home."

Down the long corridor, Rose leaned on the Doctor's arm. He opened a door, and the console room's warm hum greeted them. The Doctor pointed at the door across from them. "Right down there, and you'll be snug in bed."

"Thanks." Rose said. She set down the wrench and washers on the console chair, and walked off, the door swinging closed behind her.

The Doctor watched her go. He let his smile fall away. How much effort it took, giving a cheerful face to the world. He set the cube he held down on the console, and stared at it a long moment, watching the image of a bright young girl striding across red grass. Two long fingers stroked the cube's sides, coming to rest on the TARDIS console. Thinking of Suzz had made him want to see her. Just that part of her he had kept. He'd _wanted_ to remember, for once. He should have known better. The pain was worse, now, on the surface. All those old memories, called up tonight… For a moment, an observer might have seen into his hearts; cold, distant, and achingly alone. Alone. Always alone.

The Doctor took a long, thin breath. Then his head turned, and he grimaced

"Oh, that drip!" he muttered. "I can still hear it. Surprised a poet's never written a line about the horror of a drip. Where…Ah! Right, sort that out now."

Snatching up the wrench and washers, he bounded through another door.

Peace reigned in the console room. A lone voice cut the silence, singing a song from a world long gone. A girl in a deep grey tunic wavered in holographic memory.

The hum of the TARDIS engines changed in pitch ever so slightly, and the green light in its column began, slowly, to move with more speed.


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: I have a taste for playing with voice and point of view. I tend to use simpler English for Rose's POV, and get more complex on others. Did it work? Could use some reviews of the style. _

2

"Is the tea on?"

Rose yawned, nodding, as she took the kettle off the white ceramic of the hob. The Doctor leaned against the sill of the kitchen door, his dark blue suit and skinny tie making him look even thinner than he really was.

"Yeah. Water's hot, anyway."

"Oh good!" Striding into the room, the Doctor reached up and began rifling through the cabinets.

"What'll you be having then?"

"Hmm. Bit of that chai we nicked a while back."

"Really? Sure you won't try a bit of the Gayrvenstil? Honestly, it's quite good, you know."

Rose barked a laugh.

"Ah, no thanks, mate. Anything that shoots sparks and glows, 'snot for me."

"Oh," The Doctor enthused, pulling out a small box, "you don't know what you're missing! No sense of culinary adventure, you. But, suit yourself." Pulling down another box and snapping two mugs from the tight cradles bolted into the cupboard wall, he handed the chai and a mug to Rose. Dumping spoonfuls of powder into his own mug, he grabbed the kettle and poured water in, grinning like a kid as green and gold sparks fizzed from the surface, glowing on the rim of the mug. The liquid glowed a bright, neon green. Rose laughed and shook her head, taking the kettle from him to make her own cuppa. The Doctor smiled at her, raising his bright mug.

"What d'you say we see where we are?"

Walking into the console room, the Doctor circled the console; checking readings, moving a lever, doing something here and there.

"Should be halfway through Beteljuice by now. Nearly to this lovely spot. Vacra. You'll love it. The water has so many microorganisms in it that you can walk on the surface. Goes down a treat with religious types." He cocked his head, then ducked under the console for a moment. The hum of the TARDIS rose in pitch. He popped back up, smiling.

"Have they got breakfast on Vacra?" Rose asked, sipping her tea.

"Oh yes. Anything with shellfish." He'd made his way around to the main monitor, and he patted it, smiling fondly.

Then his eyes narrowed. He grabbed the monitor screen, turning it towards him for a closer look. Something he saw in the lines and circles must have been wrong; his brows drew tightly together.

"Oh no,no,no,no,no." he murmured, moving to check the readings on the in-depth monitor. "What are you thinking, old girl?"

"What's up?" Rose asked, setting down her mug.

"The TARDIS has got her coordinates mixed up somehow." The Doctor said, suddenly in frenzied motion. He scrambled around the console, his hands flashing with hectic method.

"Got us nowhere near Vacra. Not even the right century. Three off! You can do better than that!! Here, Rose, come 'n hold this button!"

Rose set down her cup and rushed to help. The Doctor was running around the console, first in one direction, then the other, flicking switches and pumping one of the levers.

"She's not accepting coordinates. Aack, no no no no!"

Rearing back, he gave the base of the console a swift kick. The center column began to move, the thrum of its engines rising in pitch.

"Ah, that's got it!" he declared, holding on to the console, "Now we're going!"

The TARDIS began to judder and shake, and Rose braced herself against the console. There was a tinkle of breaking china. So much for tea, she thought.

After a moment, the TARDIS grew still. It hummed a bit contentedly, the central column glowing.

"Here we are then!" said the Doctor, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. He smiled, smug as a cat in cream.Rose grinned.

"So, am I dressed for this?" she asked, holding out her arms. The Doctor looked her up and down. Jeans, t-shirt, sneakers; might be a bit out of place in a century when most Vacran garments were clear plasticine. But they'd pass as off-worlders, which they definitely were.

"Yep, should do the trick. Alonzee!"

He grabbed his long coat off the hat rack, making the ramp to the door rattle as he bounded down it. Rose followed him. He draped his coat over his shoulder. They'd been on a winning streak of late; a month investigating the flower-covered ruins on Gandal 5, a masquerade ball in seventeenth-century Italy, and another month of nicely non-endangering adventures. He was grateful. They'd needed a good break, and the TARDIS must have picked up on that. Good old ship. She might be eccentric, but when he was really feeling something, she always tried to help out in her own way. He threw open the door, anticipating the fresh Vacran breeze.

The blast of noise and emotion made him step back, staring. He peered out, shocked…and then he laughed.

"Ah, Rose…I know I said the seaside, but…" He turned to grin at her. "Fancy a festival?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Dancers careened in bright circles, the fur on their arms shaved in geometric patterns. Musicians in wildly colored attire twirled in time to their own beat, their melodies as bright as their clothes. Rose and the Doctor walked through it all, wide-eyed.

"It's like a million carnivals all rolled into one!" Rose shouted over the noise. The Doctor nodded, grinning as they passed a furry bipedal child dancing with her quadrepedal friend.

"Kids an' their pets the same all over, hey?" Rose said. She was following his gaze. He leaned over to make himself heard.

"Ah, that's her pal, not her pet. Fanti-Havians do throw the _best_ parties!"

"You know where we are?"

"Of course! Knew it the moment I saw the people. Fanti-Havi is one of those nice little places where a couple of sentient species exist quite happily together. Never so much as one species war, isn't that brilliant?"  
"So everything here…"

"Is an every_one_, yep. A terran bipedal species-" He nodded to one of the furred dancers, its long ears back over its shoulders as it spun in place, "A quadrepedal bunch-" he pointed to a creature like a small brown giraffe with a wof-like head and wide, rounded ears, "And the semi-aquatics make up the lot." He pointed out a tall newt-like dancer whose red frills moved in time to the music.

"Wonderful place. Your lot could learn quite a bit about cooperation from these folks."

"I bet." Rose yelled. She was glancing to and fro. After a moment, she pointed at a row of stalls just outside of the crowd.

"Hey! They've got shops!"

"Most planets do!"

Rose turned, and grinned at him.

"Two questions!" she half-yelled. He cocked an eyebrow.

"First, you got any money for this place?"  
Did he? Around here the planets all used Galactic Credit. He dug in one of the pockets that he'd fixed the dimensions on, making it a bit larger inside. Yes, he knew he had a few. He pulled out a the silver-green cubes. Plenty of money. He showed them.

"And is this-y'know-a religious festival? Or can anybody join in?"

The Doctor grinned. Dropping the cubes into her right hand, he grabbed her left.

"Let's find out!"

They danced the day away. The city, a sprawling complex intermixing vibrant natural areas and buildings, was charming. Stone structures with copper roofs gave a sense of early charm, belying the fact that this was a space-faring planet. With no skyscrapers to block the view, the greenish sky seemed to go on forever. Color was the main focus; color everywhere; in the clothes, hangings on the walls, even on the ships slowly flying above. Variegated dancers moved in every plaza. What a place! The music, a mixture of drums, strings and flutes, wove through the air and beat in the earth beneath his feet. Havi wore bright throws across their backs that made them look like four-legged fabric stores. Sar swam in pools that dotted the walkways, doing their own aquatic dance. The scents of spice and fur, flowers and endorphins were enough to sweep you away. The air was hot with the press of bodies; so hot that the Doctor shed his coat, then his suit top and tie. Soon his shirt sleeves were rolled up above the elbows, the painted designs somebody had offered to put on shining against his skin. The paint tickled his arms and face, but he liked the colors so much he didn't mind. Whirling to the end of a line of dancers, he came back-to-back with someone. He didn't think that was one of the dance steps.

"Oof! I'm so-hey! Rose!"

Rose grinned, and draped a thin coat around his shoulders. It looked as if it had been woven from rainbows.

"Here you go! Get into the spirit!"

The Doctor shrugged into the coat, grinning even more widely.

"Fantastic!"

The dancing went on. Soon the sun was setting. Weaving through the streets, friends met and parted and met again. The throng had wound its way into what seemed to be a market area, hangings of all colors covering the walls. As darkness fell, lasers shot into the air, forming aurora-borealis patterns in the sky. Night already. The Doctor realized he was starving. He'd make a bet that Rose was as well. And Fanti-Havian food was supposed to be delicious, if he remembered right. About time he tested it with Rose.

Moving to the edge of the crowd, his eyes scanned the whirl of dancers. There had to be more than five thousand out in the crowd. What a sight! But he wasn't going to find her very fast by looking. He sighed, smiling, and closed his eyes.

_Rose. Where are you?_

He let his mind open, let it reach out. Slowly, slowly…so many minds here, and all so carefree. No danger. No threat. Not even undertones of annoyance. The Doctor dropped his mental shields, immersing himself in the emotions of the crowd.__Such happiness. Such brightness! It pulsed like music through the Doctor's mind, and he was drunk on it, happy in every inch of his being. His hearts beat to the tattoo of the dancing feet, fit to burst with the immensity of pure _joy._

It took a moment to orient himself. But he did it. Searching through the jumble of wonderful images and feelings, he found a mind that was cataloguing and comparing all input to memory banks on one level, thinking on another and just plain _feeling _on a third. Classic human. Grinning from ear to ear, the Doctor followed that particular set of thoughts, dancing closer and closer. Colors flashed by; green,purple,red,aqua,brow,grey…gold. Rose's hair. He reached out for her hand.

"'Ello 'ello, little wild Rose!" And she did look wild, wild and _so_ happy. Her hair was tangled, paintings covered her cheeks and both her arms, set off by her headband and rainbow coat. He could feel joy pouring off her, smell the endorphins on her skin. He grabbed her into a hug.

"Hello yourself!" she said breathlessly. "You're looking tops!"

"Oh yes!" he said, relishing every breath he took, "Definitely top hole! This is the best of nights! there's so much-" Words couldn't cover it. He threw his arms wide, encompassing the throng. "So much-_Life!_ Can you feel it? Can't you?"

Rose giggled. "Yeah, yeah I can. Fancy a bite to eat?"  
"Starved! We still have cash?"

"Yeah."

"Then c'mon!"

They ate frittered roots, fruit, and sweet custard-like mixes in edible bowls. Between all the sugar in Rose's system and the emotions in the Doctor's head, they laughed at everything and anything. They bought bright trinkets, taste-tested, drank fruit juices until they were stuffed. Finding a table with two chairs for bipeds, they flopped down, watching acrobats balancing in impossible shapes on the back of a walking Havi who strode through the crowd, surrounded by another band.

"Better than the seaside?" the Doctor asked. Rose nodded, brushing hair out of her eyes.

"Oh yeah. Much."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rose had never seen such an amazing day. It was so much _fun_. It was like all the best dances, like a wedding and a really good club and being six at a birthday party all at once. She grinned at the Doctor, whose face was painted up like some sort of American Indian. He was so happy. This smile wasn't a cover for something else; it was really just him, just glad.

" Ooh, just to top off the evening…"she rifled through the multicolored bag she held, producing a yellow vessel. Opening it, she took a swig, letting the liquid tingle down her throat, and passed it over. Enthusiastically, the Doctor grabbed the beaker and tossed his head back, taking a great gulp. She laughed.

"Steady on! Don't need to get squiffed all in one go!"

"Y'forget-" He set the beaker down slowly, "Time Lord. Can take a lot of liquor!"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Were the colors always so bright? So beautiful. The Doctor licked his lips.

"Tastes…bit familiar." A delicious tingling was spreading through his limbs, lining his tongue, accentuating the music around him. A little warning sounded deep in his mind, a tiny discordant note in the bright tunes of emotion and music.  
Rose was grinning at him.

"Earth import! Good old peppermint schnapps! Found it three stores back!"

The discordant note got a bit louder. The Doctor propped his chin on his hand, since it suddenly felt…rather heavy.

"You say peppermint?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Doctor was grinning. But his eyes were a bit unfocused. That smile looked a bit daft, Rose thought. Was he remembering, or just high on the evening?"

"Yeah. Good, hunh?" His eyes focused slowly on her face. The pupils were so wide that she could see barely any brown at all.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Oh yes." His eyes didn't seem to want to work. But the Doctor focused. Her face was so pretty. So young. Just like...

"Having fun, my child?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rose wrinkled her brow. My child. Now that was rubbing it in a bit much. She watched for his cheeky grin- but his expression remained one of abstracted bliss.

"Um-yeah."

"Good. So am I."

Still smiling, he closed his eyes. His body slumped to the side, every muscle loose.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Was someone beating drums?

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. He raised an arm. Ooh. That took work. His hand laid itself on his collarbone.

Ah. That's my hearts beating. So…why can I hear them in my head?

He sat up. And very much wished he hadn't. His head pounded with every heart's beat. It felt as if his frontal lobe had been replaced by hot clay, and his ears seemed to have been stuffed with warm wool. The Doctor opened and closed his mouth, trying to pop his ears. No luck.

He opened his eyes. Orange sky. Healthy red grass. Must be in the Field of Watching, he must. But why…

No. That was wrong. Not the Field. The Field didn't exist aymore. He knew that. _Think._

He shook his head.Ooh. Definitly _not_ something to do again. _Think_.

It hurt to focus, with his pulse pounding in every part of his body. _Think._

He thought. Last night. Pictures came back. Joy. Color. Rose smiling through painted designs. And…

The Doctor groaned.

"Peppermint! Oh, thick, very thick, Doctor. Peppermint schnapps! Eeargh!!"

Slowly, he rolled off his sleep mat and got to his feet, balancing himself. Dizziness nearly knocked him sideways. Steaaady. Easy does it. He opened his eyes again. It _hurt _to open his eyes. But leaving them closed wasn't much better. Right; take stock. He was still in his rumpled pantsuit, though the paint had been scrubbed off him. His coat, his suit jacket, and the rainbow caftan were laid out on the grass near his mat.

Bending down-slowly, slooowly- he plucked up a handful of the red grass, crushing the blades in his hand. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent. The pungent smell of the herb eased some of the pain. Better. Better.

Back on his feet, the Doctor slipped on his socks and trainers. He grabbed his coat- stumbled…righted himself- and headed for the door.

Rose met him in the console room, a cup of tea held out.

"You all right?"

"Oh yes. Head feels like it's got a nova star inside it, but otherwise, fine. Is that tea? Rose Tyler, you're brilliant."

He grabbed the mug, draining it to the dregs. The heat felt wonderful in his aching gut.

"Much better. Tea's quite a restorative, you know!"

"Yeah. You've said that before." Rose was grinning at him.

"So much for holding your liquor, by the way."

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't the liquor. Well, not exactly. Well…that and the peppermint."

Rose was staring at him, her face blank. Her mind relayed what felt like a great question mark.

"Menthol, menthyl acetate, and ethanol. Mix it up, and maybe you'll get a human tipsy after a bit. Bung it into me-" He snapped his fingers. "Instant lights out."

The questioning was starting to change in her mind.

"So mint and alcohol…"

"Peppermint. Want to see me tipsy, give me one mint julep t'drink. But peppermint schnapps…"

Pain lanced across the front of his skull. He closed his eyes tight until it passed, running a hand through his hair.

"How much did I drink?"

"Two glasses, if I'm any judge."

Another lightning bolt of pain. He hadn't had such a hangover in centuries.

"D'you mind if we hang about today? I'm not up for much."

All at once, the confusion turned to amusement. The Doctor opened his eyes. Rose was grinning. She thought this was funny-no-she thought it was hilarious!

"What's the laugh?" He said, crossing his arms. Rose looked at him a moment; then she burst out laughing.

"Nothing-just-it's just nice to know humans can handle something better than Time Lords. I mean, you're immune to most everything except-" she giggled again-"Peppermint liquor."

She had a point. Probably. But he was in no mood for it. His head hurt. He wanted peace and quiet.

"Oh yes. Ve-rey funny. Now, if you've ever had a hangover before, you'll sympathize with me and shut up."

Rose pulled a face.

"Cranky one, you are."

Yes he was. He glared at her, and let her feel just a bit of how _cranky _he was. She raised a hand in surrender.

"All right, all right, I'm going to explore. Get yourself back in shape."

The TARDIS door opened and closed. Silence. The Doctor sighed, crossed to the console chair, and slumped into it. He'd feel better in an hour or so, he was sure. But oh, how his head ached right at the moment.

Peace. The TARDIS had quieted her engines to the whisper of a hum. The only sound was his pulse ringing in his ears.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

"_Bloody_ peppermint schnapps!"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rose closed the TARDIS door with great care, a little smirk playing on her lips. After all the times she'd been poisoned, hypnotized, or paralyzed by something or other, it did a body good to see the Doctor react to something for more than five minutes. And he took a hangover with truly bad grace. She still had a handful of red cubes, gotten in change for the silvery ones the Doctor had given her. If she had any luck, she'd be able to hunt up a café, and breakfast.

She strolled across the plaza where the TARDIS had parked itself. Compared to the day before, the plaza was nearly deserted. A few people strolled about, their clothes a lot simpler than the riots they'd worn the day before. Like the day after New Year's, Rose thought; everyone home, sleeping it off. It would probably take them a long time to get up, too. The party had still been going full-swing when the Doctor had passed out the night before, and had shown no signs of stopping. She'd been grateful when a friendly pair of bipeds had stepped out of the dance to help her carry him, though getting them to leave again when they'd reached the TARDIS had been tricky. The two-legged Fanti were apparently very, very friendly. She turned her head. Now, she knew she'd seen a little shop over here. As she walked, strollers smiled and waved at her, despite the fact that she was both a stranger and an alien to them. Nice place, she thought.

Some things are the same anywhere in the universe. One of these is the fact that early risers congregate where they can get a hot drink and a bite to eat. Following the sound of talking, Rose homed in on a little crowd clustered outside a small building, built of the same rich brown stone as the rest if the city. Rose looked down the menu hung on a pole outside the entrance.

Frittered Jackarfish

Red Adisphosia

Brisalikia

Rauk tea

She sighed. Then there were the things that _weren't _the same at all. She hated this bit; on new planets you could never be sure the food wouldn't poison you.

Instead of trying to figure out the incomprehensible menu, she watched the other patrons making their orders, hoping to catch on. A small Fanti lifted a tray of cooked roots, which Rose recognized. She'd enjoyed those the night before. She stepped up to the counter, intending to order the same.

A shove made her stumble sideways.

"Hey! Watch it!" She said, almost on reflex.

The creature that had bumped her turned its head, slowly. The light caught on its scales as it moved. Something like a cross between a snake and a monitor lizard, the thing stared down at her with neon-blue eyes that made her feel she was being sized up as a meal. It blinked, very…slowly. Its eyes made her feel small and endangered. And that pissed her off.

"What do you think you're-"

A hand touched her shoulder, startling her. She turned. A Fanti that she recognized as one of the lads who'd helped her the night before was standing at her side, long ears laid back against its head, eyes wide.

"Hello!!" It said, grinning wide enough to make its short snout wrinkle. "Nice to see you up so early! No need to bother this gentle. Want something to eat? How's your friend?"  
Rose was a little stunned by the sudden friendliness.

"My friend... Oh. He's fine. Ate something that didn't agree with him."

She glanced back at the lizard; it had already turned away, oblivious.

"Want some Kelos?" the Fanti asked, "We've got extra!"

Mentally, Rose shrugged. Seemed like she'd made a friend.

"Yeah, thanks. And thanks for helping me out last night."

The Fanti's ears perked forward. "Of course! C'mon, my mate Barsali's got us a table."

Kelos turned out to be the roots that Rose had been planning to order. And Barsali turned out to be the mate, bonded for life, of Sarkari. The two sat side by side, their tails twining together as they talked to Rose. Talked _at_ her might have been a better choice of words; they didn't seem to stop. They reminded Rose of cartoon kangaroos she'd seen as a kid, with those great tails and upturned muzzles. But their eyes had the pupils of a goat, and were the same greenish-yellow as the eyes of a goat she'd seen in a petting zoo. Their floppy ears were goatish too. Or dog-like, maybe. She munched the roots like French-fries, and let the pair chatter on, running over each other as they talked.

"So is that friend of yours all right? Oh, yes, you said he was. Hope he feels better!"

"I think he looked well when we left you, I think. What happened to him?"

"He ate something problematic, Barsali."

"Oh, poor fellow! Have to be careful with such things."

"Yes, have to be careful with your biology. Especially when you're-"

"Travelling, yes yes. Do you travel much?"

"Erm-yeah." Rose said, startled to find them both staring at her.

"Quite a lot, actually."

And off they went again:

"Ooh, travelling! What fun, aye Sarkari?"

"Such fun! Do you like it? I bet you do!"

"Bet you do! What's brought you out here, this far from home?"

They both stared at her, their ears perked forward. Rose swallowed. These two could definitely put you on the spot.

"Well… we saw your festival, and we-couldn't resist joining in." Yeah. That sounded about right.

"Oh, the festival!" said Sarkari, "We always get a lot of travelers in for the Day of Colors! It is such fun!"

"And the more the merrier!" Barsali chimed in. It was a good thing her fur was a chestnut color a few shades darker than her mate's sandy pelt. Otherwise Rose would never be able to tell them apart.

"But they usually leave the next day. How long will you be staying?"

"Not long." Rose responded quickly, "Only today. Once my friend's feeling himself we'll be getting on."

"Is he going to be with you today?"

"Nah. He's back at our ship, having a rest. Told me to go out and kill time for a bit."

"Oh really?" Barsali's long ears perked forward. "So what will you be doing?"

"Visiting the shops?"

"The market?"  
"The gardens?"

"Or what about-"

"I wasn't really sure what I'd do." Rose said, stepping in. "Just see the sights, I suppose. Poke around, y'know. It looks like an awfully nice place."

"Oh, it is, it is!" Barsali enthused, her tail wagging from side to side.

"Come on!" said Sarkari, "We'll give you the tour!"

Despite her surprise, Rose grinned. These two were irresistible. Following their wagging tails, she left the café.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

That girl. She caught the attention. Dark eyes, pale hair. Human, of course. Her thought patterns confirmed it. Yet time seemed to weave around her, imbue her… And there was something else, something so familiar… but it couldn't be placed.

This definitely warranted investigation.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rose flopped into a carved bench. All morning she'd been running about with Barsali and Sarkari, seeing a good chunk of the Fertile City. Wherever they'd stopped, one of the pair had explained or enthused about something; from architecture to shopping, historical monuments to gardening. Letting her brain catch up to her feet, Rose stared blankly at the statue ahead of her; a depiction of a Fanti kneeling in front of a Havi in a way that reminded Rose of a marriage proposal. If she had any energy left, she'd grin.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Oh no. Not more talking. Rose really could have done with a bit of peace and quiet. But she mustered a smile.

"Yeah. Really nice."

"One of the best moments in history." Sarkari said, leaning against the bench. Barsali perched on the seat beside Rose.

"Beautiful day, that. Whole world was on a knife edge. Havi demanding power, thinking they knew what was right."

"Fanti using the Havi's own minds against them"

"And then came the Truce." Barsali grinned, staring at the statue. She smiled at Rose, and pointed at the figures. "That's a statue of the Truce being passed; Arsaroi and Brak the Good swearing to end the trouble."

"I thought you lot never had a war?" Rose asked. Sarkari's tail dropped.

"Not a war. But awfully close." His ears drooped, and he looked towards the statue.

"Like now."

Barsali slapped her tail down across her mate's thighs.

"Now don't you get started on history!" She grinned at Rose, her ears flat against her head.

"Sark's got a head for history. Let him get started and he won't stop!"

"Well, it's rather worth knowing!" Sarkari returned. He turned to Rose.

"Don't you think history's interesting?"

"Yeah." Rose said, a smile sneaking across her lips. "yeah, I guess so."

The sun had gone down by the time Rose made it back to the TARDIS. She'd seen more of the Fertile City than she'd really wanted. She was tired. And even in sneakers, her feet were killing her. It was going to feel great to get inside and cool off. Rose pulled her key from her pocket, and unlocked the TARDIS door.

"'Ello!" she called, stepping inside. No answer. She walked up the ramp, into the familiar hum. Still no voice to greet her. The Doctor must be in the back somewhere. The TARDIS vibrated warmly around her. She was going to grab a seat in the console chair and…

She stopped. The Doctor was lying in the console chair, wrapped in his coat, his eyes closed. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. He looked so peaceful. All the same, it made Rose nervous. The Doctor hardly ever slept. If he did, it was usually a sign that something was wrong. She reached out, touching his shoulder.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor's eyes opened slowly.

"Oh, hello! Have fun in the city?"

"Yeah, 'cept I nearly got run off my feet."

The Doctor's brows drew together.

"Trouble?"

"Nah. Guided tour."

The Doctor's thin face relaxed, and he smiled.

"You get a bit older, you'll learn to give all of those a miss. Inconvenient. The guides never let you go in the really interesting areas. Those are always restricted, it seems."

He crossed his legs, and grinned at her.

"So, ready for Vacra now?"

Rose shrugged. "Sounds good."

"Right!"  
The Doctor jumped to his feet. And fell back again, clutching his head.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: Apologies for taking so long to post. Six exams in one week! Earrghhh! Left me very little time to write Anyway, hope your week's going better. Enjoy._

_Otter_

4

"Rose! Rose, I'm all right!"

The Doctor steadied himself against the console chair with one hand, using the other to ward off Rose, who had rushed to catch hold of him.

"Like hell you are!"She watched him straighten, releasing her hold on his sleeve. "You near fainted!"

"All right, that was a bit odd. But it was only a dizzy spell. Honestly, I'm fine."

He gave her his most appealing, innocent gaze. She wasn't having it. The Doctor _didn't get_ dizzy spells. She glared at him.

"You." She said, pointing a finger, "Sit. Now. I'm getting you a cup of tea." She strode towards the door that would get her to the kitchen.

"And don't you _dare_ take off, hear? We can see you walk on water another day."

The door creaked closed behind her. The Doctor sat, staring after her. How English. A cup of tea for what ails you. His eyes stung a bit. He sighed, closing them and leaning back. What was ailing him? Something was off. No need to worry Rose just yet, but something was definitely off.

He breathed deeply, letting his body relax. _What is wrong? Where?_

Blood pressure. Bit high.

Heart rates. All right.

Oh, pain. His head. What had been a dull thud had momentarily spiked into a blasting cacophony. The sensation wasn't overwhelming, but the shock of it broke his concentration. Now what was that about?

_Forget the pain. Let it go. Lock it out._

The barriers were easy to erect. He was fairly good at shutting off his localized pain sensation. Without the headache, thinking came a bit easier.

Had he felt like this before? He'd been drunk before. Very drunk. Very, very drunk, in fact. But it didn't feel like this. No…then he remembered. Being small, his head pounding, hearts beating like the wings of birds. How old had he been? Fifty? Sixty? A child, struck with childhood illness. A virus losing a battle in his blood.

Was this a virus? Had he picked something up on Fanti-Havi?

No. Made no sense. He'd delt with viruses that flattened planets before. It took two or three hours of illness, usually, before his body fought it off. This was hanging about too long. Besides, he hadn't seen anyone remotely ill.

Well. Block the sensation, and let it alone. His body would work it out. It was good at that.

"Doctor, heal thyself." He murmured, his eyes half closed. The door to the kitchen swung wide.

"Y'know," said Rose, "You're near as bad as my mum after a Saturday. She makes a concoction with egg and a tomato. Want to try it?"  
She set a mug, cloudy with milk, in his hands. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not hung over, Rose! I used to drink quite a lot, twenty or so years back. Me and a load of UNIT lads. Nearly every weekend a bender. Well-" he sipped his tea-"When there wasn't something to occupy us."

"Like the end of the world?"

"Exactly. Ol' Charley-he was Prime Minister at the time-he used to drink me under the table! And that, between us, takes some doing when it's rum and Guinness."  
He leaned back in the chair, crossing his long legs in front of him, and grinned.

"'Course they hated me in the morning, when I got them up. Should have heard what they called me! An' only because I was fresh, and they weren't, poor blokes."

"How'd you manage that?"

"Oh, slept it off. I just sleep it off a bit faster. Wonderful ways to play with body chemistry, your lot has."

Swirling his mug, he downed the rest of his tea, and unfolded himself from the chair.

"So, 'nuff chat. Let's go."

Rose set down her mug, shaking her head.

"Mmm. Not tonight. Whatever's up with you, I want you in one place."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You trying to be a nurse now?"

"You going to make me?"

"Rose, I'm just going to lift off and take us about …three centuries forward-or perhaps back. Easiest thing in the-"

Rose cut him off. "You try it, and I'll show you the slap my mum taught me!"

He could feel the heat of her emotion. She really was annoyed. Annoyed, and just a bit-scared? She glared at him, those dark eyes fiery. He grinned.

"You're hilarious when you try to be tough, Rose Tyler. Maybe I will turn in. Be interesting to see how holding still for four hours feels."

"Four?" Rose said, eyebrow arched. He gave her another impudent grin

"Well you can't expect me to hold still longer than that, can you? Terribly boring. Night!"

He didn't waver as he left the room. But he moved with a caution that was foreign to him. Rose had seen him be electrocuted, tortured, turned to stone and mentally bombarded. He'd absorbed the power of the Time Vortex. And he'd always popped back after a few hours. This was _not_ right.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge her unease. He knew what he was doing. Most of the time.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Doctor was already dressed and in the kitchen when Rose got up the next morning, his head stuck in the refrigerator.

"The bread's a bit stale. Ooh, and so's the fruit!" He grimaced at a slightly soggy orange in the bottom drawer, which the 56-th century refrigerator promptly dematerialized.

"Oy! That didn't mean I wouldn't eat it!" He smacked the refrigerator's glassy door. Rose chuckled, and he glanced up.

"Fancy kippers for breakfast? Cans haven't gone bad, anyway."  
She shook her head. "Nah. I think I'd rather go outside, eat something fresh."

"Oh, really? All right, then! Outside it is!"

Rose watched the Doctor as they crossed the corridor into the console room. He seemed better. But his movements were deliberate; seemed to take just a second longer than usual. Maybe she was just being paranoid.

Breakfast was delicious. Wandering had brought them to a little café in the middle of a busy market square, and they watched the city life as they ate. Afterwords, they strolled along the rows of booths, poking through the wares on display, chatting with owners and patrons. Here and there, Rose spotted the tall lizard-like types, pushing their way through the crowds. Everyone seemed to try to avoid them, and they made no bones about shoving somebody who did get in their way. One of them even bumped into the Doctor, nearly knocking him over. Rose grabbed his hand to keep him from tumbling into a stack of woven blankets.

"Good god, they're rude!"

"Mirans usually are."

The Doctor shook his head. He couldn't seem to get his balance properly. Mirans…there was something he ought to remember about Mirans…they were bad news…but the memory slipped away. Maybe he was just recalling their lack of tact. Let it go.

Soon, they were leaving the market, and the stalls gave way to homes of brown stone and mud brick. It looked like a photo of the cities in Egypt to Rose, save the ships whirring overhead, the bright painted designs over each doorframe. She linked arms with the Doctor.

"So, which way back, then?"

The Doctor nodded forward-then paused. He looked back the way they'd come, and forward again.

"Hmm. Not quite sure, actually." He put a hand to the back of his neck, his brow creased. This was beginning to get scary. In the year she'd known him, he'd never had trouble locating the TARDIS before. It was built into him, he'd said. He just knew where it was.

"Can't you just…"She tapped her temple. The Doctor looked up and down the avenue again.

"I am, Rose."

His eyes stared off, a little unfocused. And his face creased in what looked to Rose like a wince.

"Ah. This way, then."

A small seed of worry was growing in the pit of the Doctor's gut. And his head hurt, which wasn't helping. Hadn't he taken care of that? Never mind. It had taken concentration to link with the TARDIS. That was decidedly _not_ normal. He always had a connection with her; the ship was a part of his mind, humming away in the back, as continual as the breath he drew. Now he could barely hear her, through the pounding in his skull. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

As they walked, the Doctor had to focus on his sense of where the TARDIS was. Pain pierced through his head like razor blades-no, ignore that-was she down this street? Yes, he could feel her. Shafts of sunlight lanced between the buildings, stinging his eyes, making him dizzy. He stumbled-caught himself. Rose was staring at him, feeling… He didn't know what she was feeling. He couldn't catch the emotion. Pain rolled through his head.

The look on her face was concerned. He tried a smile.

"Just around this corner!" he said, trying to sound cheerful. And none too soon. He needed to get back, to be in his TARDIS. Needed to rest. Take some time in the Zero Room, even.

Ah. The TARDIS. He could see her now. Almost there.

Fumbling for the key, the Doctor held on to the door frame as he unlocked the door. He almost stumbled up the ramp, and the familiar sense of the TARDIS was back, back inside his head. He sighed. Coming back had never felt so good.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The two had turned a corner. Which way had they gone? It had definitely been the same human as the day before, walking with a thin, dark man. That man. If the girl had been eye-catching, he was like the lasers of a festival night. That sense, that _certainty_; It couldn't be right. Could it?  
Only one way to know. Follow the trail.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rose chewed her lip. She'd gotten the Doctor into the corridor, and the second door he'd opened- the one that usually led to the laundry room- had released a whiff of roses. Where she usually did the wash, there was now a little grey room, totally bare. It made her hope the washer and dryer would come back later. But at least the Doctor had seemed better once he stepped inside, alert and talking.

"Just need a kip in here. Fix me up in no time!" he'd said, tossing her his long coat, "Hang that up for me, eh? Shouldn't be more than an hour."

She'd felt so peaceful inside that room. So relaxed. But once she'd closed the door, the worry had set in.

"Bloody alien biology!" she muttered, walking into the console room, "Acts like he's got the head cold from hell, but oh no, he's fine, fine. Great bloody…"

Times like this made her miss her mum. Even if she couldn't of helped, it'd be nice to have somebody to carp to.

Rose sat in the console room for an hour. She played songs on her IPod. Then she poked around the control panels. The Doctor had taught her a bit about how they worked, but not much. After one of the panels gave her a shock, she decided investigating was a bad idea.

Another half-hour passed. Then an hour. Rose sat, her foot banging rhythmically against the strut of the console chair. And thoughts crept in. She wondered if she'd accidently poisoned the Doctor. But that was stupid. He'd dealt with far worse than getting soused.

Ah yes, said a sneaky little part of her head, but he's not human, remember. Who knows, for him all that might have been less trouble than this.

She shook her head. Maybe he just had some sort of alien flu. Nasty to catch, but not deadly. Maybe he'd just-

The floor beneath her shook. Rose grabbed on to the seat reflexively.

"What the hell?"  
The shaking came again. Levering herself up, she grabbed the monitor. Maybe this would be something simple, like a freak storm or an earth quake. She pulled a lever. At least she knew the right buttons to bring up images of the outside.

She got a shot of the immediate vicinity; the plaza they'd settled in. Seemed all right. She was about to turn it off, when a flash of light dazzled her. She looked closer, curious. There seemed to be little lights on the walls now. She tapped the controls, zeroing in on the image.

The lights were words, written in a blue that blazed like an LED.

Fant-Havi

Your planet has been selected as a maturation ground for the children of Kai-Mira. Your people will reap great rewards from this alliance. Please allow Miran scouts to discuss the situation and help you adapt. Welcome to the Miran Federation.

"Oh bullocks!"

Rose tapped another control, getting a city-wide view. That explained the shaking, a distant part of her brain said. Around the perimeter of the city, two huge ships sat, hulking in the skyline. A third was just setting down further off, sending up a cloud of dust.

Then the rest of her brain kicked in. Go get the Doctor. She sprinted into the TARDIS.

The washer and dryer were back. Rose cursed as she hunted for the little grey room. Apparently the bloody machine had decided she shouldn't bother him at the moment. Well, too bad. He needed to see this. She dashed around another corner-and nearly ran into the Doctor. Rose's heart sank. He didn't look better; if anything he looked worse, his skin pale, eyes dazed. He had one hand pressed against the corridor wall.

"Rose. What's going on?"

"You know those snaky dinosaur types? Y'called them- Mirans, I think? Well, there's three great whopping ships outside, and a sign about this planet becoming part of a Miran federation, or something, only I don't think it's as friendly as they make out. Are you OK? You look awful."

He stared at her a long moment, quizzical. Shaking his head, he pushed himself off the wall.

"Thanks for that. I'll go and see. Meanwhile…can you get to the second library?"

Rose nodded. He gave her a tight smile. But when he spoke, his words flowed out in a lilting, rolling language. Fingers of panic dug into Rose's gut.

"Doctor?"

"Hmmm?"  
"That wasn't English."

He cocked his head, staring at her with unfocused eyes. Said something else in that strange language. Stiffening his jaw, he took a deep breath.

"Sorry. I think-I think I know what's wrong with me. I need…I need you to go to the second library and get books by Gates. Marnal Gates. Get…get as many as you can, thanks. Now…"

He moved to go up the corridor. Rose grabbed his hand, noticing distantly that it was nearly as warm as her own. Weird.

"You should lie back down!"

"Later. Go on."

He headed towards the console room. Rose stared after him, torn. Usually she followed the Doctor's plans without a qualm. But this…she should be taking care of him, not rifling a load of books.

She glanced down the corridor, then back the way the Doctor had gone. After a moment, she headed for the library.

She found the room quick enough, but it seemed like forever before she found the proper section. The books weren't alphabetical, and they didn't seem to be by subject, with books like 'Time in the Relative Quantum Distance' stuck in with 'Bullfinch's Mythology' and 'Eats around Evorsoria'

Finally, she found Marnal Gates. There were shelves of them, row upon row of tatty paperbacks with pulp-fiction titles; 'The Hand of Montoure', 'Rassilon's Way', 'The Eye of Harmony'

What did the Doctor want these for? She shook her head. But she grabbed as many as she could, using her denim jacket as a sling to carry about twenty. Books in tow, she hurried through the corridors. She pushed open the door to the console room with her hip.

Two things caught her eye as she stepped in. The Doctor, passed out in the console chair. And the open door of the TARDIS, framing the form of a young woman with short, dark hair, who stood stock-still on the entrance ramp.

Rose stared.

"Who the hell are you?"


	5. Chapter 5

5

The woman stepped further into the TARDIS, staring. A long, thin hand reached out, stroking one of the wide coral columns that soared to the TARDIS's ceiling. Rose wasn't sure if she'd even been noticed. The girl was pretty, Rose noted, and about her own age. She was also in the TARDIS. It had let her in! Was nothing under control today? Her bile was on the rise; her voice followed suit.

"Hey!"

The girl turned at the shout. She looked like Audrey Hepburn, pretty, petite and fine-boned. But her eyes were twin dark pools, trained on Rose's face. Those eyes were so deep. They had something that looked at Rose, but _through_ her too, far away. And her gaze held so much; a look of longing, and shock, and joy all at once. Those eyes caught Rose's words on her tongue. She'd seen it before.

"Um …"

"Who are you?" The girl's voice was light, high and pretty. Her accent was English, but unusual; cultured, almost old-fashioned. And just a bit…well, odd. Rose replied automatically.

"I'm Rose. Now…"

"A pleasure. I am Rhia. Rhia Walker. I'd like to see the Doctor."

The girl's head tipped to the side, dark eyes piercing her with a quiet curiosity. Rose stood stock still. It wasn't a threatening gaze; more of an observation. But the stillness with which she stood, the way her eyes examined you, was unnerving. The way she looked at you made you want to fidget. Suddenly Rose wondered if she looked all right. That stare made her feel scruffy, with her arms full of books and her hair in a tangle, most like.

Books. Rose snapped out of it. The Doctor needed her.

"Um…wait here." she said, and moved around to the other side of the console. Lucky you couldn't see around the console column directly, from the door.

The Doctor was sitting up, massaging his temple with one hand.

"You okay?" Rose asked, dropping the books. He gave her a half-smile.

"Not really, no. But I'll hold together." His eyes fell on the paperbacks.

"Oh brilliant! You brought them."

He leaned down to grab a book, and gasped, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Ooh… You may have to help me with this, Rose. Awfully dizzy. We're looking through these for anything about something called …Cloudbreak. Cloudbreak…it had another name-" He covered his eyes, wincing-"Ah-oh! Vassilorin's Risk, that's it. It's a sickness, rather uncommon thing, not good…there was a simple cure- it was so simple -ah!" He sucked air between his teeth, raising his other hand to his head. "I can't _remember_ it!"

Suddenly he looked up, meeting Rose's eye

"Rose, this may be something that I can't come out of. I remember-if you didn't go…" Another pain made him clutch at his head. "if the cure wasn't available…look, Rose. If I don't wake up, you know the button I programmed to take you home? You do know, don't you?"

Rose shook her head.

"I don't need to know it." She grabbed one of the paperbacks.

"Cloudbreak? Vass- vass-"

The Doctor opened his fingers, looking through them. He gave a small laugh."Vassilorin's Risk. You and pronunciation."

Rose looked at him-and watched as the smile fell away. His lips parted, eyes growing wide as he stared over her shoulder.

"Suzz…" he breathed.

Rose whirled on hands and knees. The pale girl had come around the console, and now she stood staring at the Doctor, eyes wide in her china face.

"Suzz?" The Doctor murmured a few words in his rolling tongue. He tried to sit up, and gasped again. The girl stepped forward

"Yes, Grandfather."

The Doctor let out another little laugh. Said a few words. And closed his eyes, his head dropping back.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It will be all right if we don't bother them. Everyone had said it. Let them alone. They'll stay for a few days, and then they'll be gone. It was certain.

So much for certainty. Sarkari stared at the wall across from their home, marked with that cheerful message. Reap great rewards. Right. The only reward Miran planets seemed to receive was a sort of horrified respect from other worlds.

Barsali sank down beside his bench, pressing her snout against his legs. He wrapped his tail around her shoulders, petting the fur of her long, luxurious ears.

"It's all right, Bari. It'll be all right. Bet you it'll be cleared up in no time, you'll see."

Barsali muttered something unintelligible into his legs.

"There is some good." The sonorous voice of their friend Thak, who had draped himself across one of the platforms they'd put in for Havi visitors, brought Barsali's head up.

"Our world is spacefaring. We are counted as advanced. They must parlay with us, or face one of the Planetary Confederacies. Perhaps even the Shadow Proclomation. "

Sarkari bobbed his head side to side in agreement.

"Yes yes. We're no primitive backwater, Bari. They'll have to make an agreement with the Triumvitrate. Anything else is an invasion! Who knows, maybe we'll even work out a partnership!"

"Partnership?" Barsali squeaked. Her breath shuddered out. "With demons? They're like spice-rats, Sark, they eat everything at hand. At least that's what the stories say. After they took Salk 6, we never heard from anyone but a few refugees. And they wouldn't talk about it. What does that tell you?"

"We know nothing for sure." Thak said.

"We know they lost communication. We know their space-travel experiments stopped. And that other planet, the one it takes a month and two weeks to get to? That one with the white oceans? Well, folks from there came through, and they were terrified. Monsters, they said. Monsters had taken their homes."

"It's just star-stories, Bari! We only have to…"

The door-flap was pushed aside, and a Miran came in. No greeting. No request. Its blank blue eyes took in Thak, then Sarkari. His tail tightened reflexively around his mate.

"Quadreped. Are you of breeding age?"  
Thak nodded, slowly.

"Bipeds. Are you of breeding age?"

Sarkari drew himself up.

"We are. Why?"

The Miran eyed him for a long moment.

"Population survey. Your answers will be recorded. If you have any recent dead, bring them to a scout ship immediately. Welcome to the Miran Federation."

Turning, the Miran stepped out. The room was silent.

"And so it begins." Barsali whispered.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rose and Rhia had laid the Doctor out on the floor of the console room, his head pillowed on Rose's jacket. Rhia laid a hand across his temple, her forehead wrinkling.

"His skin's so hot. And his thoughts are all in a tangle. How long has he been like this?"

"'Bout two days. He kept on saying he was fine. " Rose said, watching Rhia place her hand cross-ways in the center of the Doctor's chest, just below his collarbone. She pushed the heel of her hand down, then the fingers. His granddaughter! This was the Doctor's granddaughter!

"And is anyone else here?" The wide, dark eyes fixed on Rose again.

"Mother? Father? Grandmother? Lady Romana?"

Though her face was impassive, her eyes held a hope of desperate intensity. Rose swallowed. How do you tell somebody that most of their family is dead for sure?

"Sorry." She said quietly. "It's just the Doctor and me here."

Rhia nodded, her head dropping. Then she shook herself.

"We need to get him into a Zero Room. Was his nearby when you last saw it?"  
"Zero room?"

"A small room. Grey. It smells-"

"Like roses?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I saw that. Get 'is feet."

Rose pushed herself up, and got her hands under the Doctor's arms.

"I can-" Rhia started, putting her arms under her grandfather's waist. She wasn't going to try and carry him alone? Rose shook her head.

"Nah. Lemme help. I already got a hold."

Between them the two women lifted the Doctor. Skinny as he was, it took a bit of effort to carry him. Rose kicked the door open to the corridor, walking backwards through it.

"So…" she said, shifting for a better grip, "you called him Grandfather. You're Susan then, aren't you?"

The girl's great eyes met hers, eyebrows rising.

"He spoke of me?"

"You came up for a bit. But I got the idea that you..er…hadn't made it through."

Rhia let out a high, fragile laugh.

"Ironic. I had no idea Grandfather had survived."

Rose frowned.

"Yeah, but I thought you lot could-y'know-sense each other, or something."

"Usually we can. I programmed my TARDIS to block the systemic signal over any real distance."

"How come?"

"We had…enemies. They found a way to lock onto our signals, track us. Afterwords…I saw no reason to reprogram it."

"Enemies. D'you mean the Daleks?"  
Rhia's eyebrows shot upwards.

"How do you know that name?" Her voice had a new edge to it.

"I met a couple that survived the war. Don' worry though-the Doctor got rid of them."

Rhia stared at her, then down at the Doctor, as they moved. Her face was unreadable. After a moment, Rose broke the silence.

"Should be in here. Leastways it was last time. By the way- Why'd your name change?"

"What?"

"Your name. Your name used to be Susan. What changed it?"

Rhia gave a small smile.

"Suzz, Susan,-those were just holding names. Nick-names, in effect. We choose our own names at adulthood. Our own roads in life. Oh, good." Rose had pushed the door open with a foot, revealing the little grey room. They crab-walked him in.

"Set him down."

"Just on the floor? " Rose asked, "Shouldn't we get a mat or something?"

Rhia shook her head.

"This is a Zero Room. He won't need it."

Rose wasn't sure about that. But she was feeling a lot better; calm, relaxed even. She felt so quiet that the shock barely registered when the Doctor began to float off the ground.

"Erm-he supposed to do that?"

"Yes. It's part of the Zero Room's workings."

After a moment, she turned back to Rose.

"Now. When did he begin showing symptoms?"

Rose had to think for a minute. It was hard…

"Two…three days ago? Three at the most. He wasn't really acting off until about two days ago. "

"Where have you been of late?"

Rose thought. "Here, mostly. Got in on that big festival day."

"And before that?"

"We were out in the middle of space, the-um-Swevra sector, I think. In the middle of an Isolous family, 'round 2015. Checking up on a friend."

"Isolous?" Rhia stared at her-then shook her head.

"That wouldn't be it. Have you been to Vreacl?"

"Nope."

"Any immune-system disturbance?"

Rose wrinkled her forehead.

"Hunh?"  
The dark eyes flashed. "Has he done anything that weakened him lately? Regenerated? Been hurt?"

Rose giggled. This shouldn't be funny. But she felt so good at the moment. And a bit sleepy, too. She leaned up against the wall, until Rhia grabbed her hand.

"Rose! Oh, you're human, aren't you? Come on." She guided Rose to the door.

Leaving the Zero Room was like having all the worry in the world dropped back on her shoulders. But she could think again. She shook her head.

"Okay, that was weird."

"My apologies." Rhia said. "I forgot the affect. Can you answer me now?"

"Wha…oh. Right. Well, he got a bit drunk about two nights back."

Rhia's dark brows drew together. "Was it methanol or ethanol?"

Rose felt an urge to hang her head, like she had in primary school when the teacher had asked about her homework.

"Ah-it was peppermint schnapps."

"_Peppermint?_" Rhia's eyes widened. "From _Earth_?"

"Yeah."

"How much did he take?" she asked, incredulous.

"Um…two or three glasses."

"Two? _Three_?! Oh, Grandfather!" Rhia lifted her gaze to the ceiling, then returned it to the door.

"Erm-two things." Rose said. Rhia turned to her.

"First off, the Doctor thought he knew what was wrong with him. Something called Cloudbreak."

Rhia's shoulders stiffened, her eyes growing wide. "Cloudbreak?! "

"Um, yeah. But also, do we need to do anything about the Mirans? They don't sound too good for this planet."

Rhia's eyes hadn't left the Zero Room door. "Cloudbreak." She murmered. "How? How could he catch _Cloudbreak_?"

"That bad?" Rose asked. Rhia nodded.

"It is – a rather terrible disease. It's deadly. Truly deadly."

Deadly. Good God, was the Doctor going to be okay?

Then a new thought struck Rose. Was she going to be okay? Would she catch it?

"Erm-I've been around here two days, too. Am I okay?"

Rhia nodded absently. "You'll be fine. Cloudbreak takes a foothold in the psychoactive centers of the brain. You don't have high enough mental functions to be in any danger."

Rose wrinkled her nose.  
"Thanks."

Rhia missed the dig. She was looking up the corridor.

"Mirans. We have some time on that front. Though not much." She shook her head, her eyes hardening. "I cannot believe the Mirans would try to coerce a planet of this level into joining them." Her long hands balled into fists. "I've lived on Fanti-Havi for twenty-five years. I will _not_ see this planet ill treated."

She took a step up the corridor- and stopped. Her eyes wavered; up the corridor, to the door in front of her. And up the corridor again.

"Need help?" Rose asked.

Rhia looked at her. And Rose saw something terrible in her eyes; an anger, a sort of rage, but a helplessness too.

"I'm only one. I can't take on two disasters- not at the same time."

The look in her eyes made Rose instinctively reach for her hand.

"Tell you what, you don't have to. I'll look after the Doctor. He told me where to look for the cure. You go out, an' fix the rest of the world."

Rhia gave her a long, searching look. Then she smiled. And in that moment Rose saw the Time Lord in her; tall, fierce, powerful, and ready for anything.

"Well enough then. I'll be back. If he wakes…tell him that's a promise."

Her head high, she strode down the corridor.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The settlement was going as planned. Lord Rass Kadula observed the city through the window of his ship. This planet would be an ideal fostering ground. And the primitive state of their structures and machines ensured that they would accept the technology offered them in return. Yes, he had made a good choice. It was a risk. A great risk, if he was investigated. But this world would serve well. And once this planet was settled, he would return to Kai-Mira. He would be named a Grand General. Be free to join the mating rituals. No longer face harsh weather on so many worlds. He would not end his days as some warriors did, travelling so far in search of suitable planets that they died before their return was complete.

"First reports tabulated." One of his underlings handed him a readout-pad. Rass looked it over. Yes. All was succeeding.

The whop of an alarm made the spines stand up on his underlings' arms.

"What is that?" Rass asked.  
One of the technical team hurried across the room. "Unauthorized entry into this vessel."

"In what quadrant?" Was that noise part of the alarm?

"Here!"

In the empty center of the command deck, something appeared. It resembled one of the small shade chambers the primitives had dotted around their city, made from lacquered and multicolored wood. But that noise…

The door of the chamber opened, and a small hominid stepped out. Not a planetary inhabitant. Male? Female? He could never distinguish mammalian sex.

Several of his men raised their weapons. The hominid bared its teeth.

"Shooting at a diplomat is very bad manners. Besides, those bolts won't do much. Best put them down."

Staring, they obeyed. Rass observed the creature, which was dressed in a red that made his eyes sting. It carried itself like a leader, though a swipe of claws could easily destroy it. Suddenly, it turned, looking him in the eye.

"Are you the leader here?"  
He nodded.

"I am. Lord Admiral Rass Kadula. Who are you?"

The hominid bared its teeth again, arms resting at its sides.

"I am the Walker. And I'm sorry to say, my Lord, that you are acting against the Shadow Proclamation."

A low hiss of alarm and annoyance ran around the room. Rass breathed slowly. He could not show fear.

"We have done nothing. We have simply invited a planet to join our federation."

"If I'm not mistaken, an invitation must be _accepted_ by the invitee. You gave no time for any sort of reply. In fact, the message seems to have been sent as a mere formality. Your actions will change the course of history for a sentient set of races, and this _cannot _occur without the agreement of these peoples. If you choose to speak with the Ruling Triumvirate of this planet, give your plans and your wishes, this could be classed as an agreement rather than an invasion."

"There will be compensation." One of his officers said. The hominid gave a high chortling sound.

"Yes, compensation. But that isn't the point, you see. You must be accepted by this planet before settling and giving compesation. Otherwise, steps will be taken."

"By you?" Rass asked. He worked to keep the hiss from his speech. "You have no right to speak for this planet, hominid."

"Correction, my Lord."

The hominid took several steps forward, and its dark eyes riveted Rass. He could not look away, though his instinct screamed for him to drop his gaze. There was danger in this creature. He could feel it.

"I have lived on this planet long enough to be included as an inhabitant. I am counted as a citizen. And I am a citizen of the Universe, moreover. I am a Lord of Time, Rass. And you will pay me the respect I am due."

A ripple of rasps and hisses circled the room.

"Time Lord?" an officer to his left asked. "Gallifreyan?"

The dark-furred head nodded.

"It would be well for you to speak with the Triumvirate. Discuss your plans with them. I can act as liaison between you if that would be beneficial. Would you have me call them together?"

Rass felt the spines along his back rise. If this discussion took place, if the fact that this planet was not within the colonization parameters returned to his home world via a transmission, through one of his men… No. None of his men would risk summary execution by breaking his command of radio silence. But this situation constituted a danger. And the Time Lord had the upper hand.

"If you are what you say you are, then you are only one. An individual, acting alone. Miran federals do not take orders from…"

The Time Lord raised its eyes again. And in its eyes was something that made even the frill around his neck inflate. It shook its head, side to side.

"Oh, wrong again, my Lord. Even my anger, the wrath of one Time Lord, is a thing you _do not_ want to face. But I am not alone. Not this time. If you do not act peaceably here, we could contact the Shadow Proclamation…or we _might_ just deal with you in our own manner. It's your decision. Choose well."

Then the Time Lord turned, and walked back into its ship. In a moment, it was gone.

_Author's Note: I am trying to use a reptilian mindset with the Mirans, which is basically driven by fear and need. I could use some reviews on how it's working. By the way, _

_Does anybody else remember Susan?_

_Am I doing okay with Rose's character? Any advice?_

_Are the changes in voice confusing?_

_If you're wondering about the name changes, read the next chapter. There is a reason!_

_Thanks for reviewing and answering any/all these questions!! Much obliged!_

_Otter_


	6. Chapter 6

6

Rose flipped another page. This stuff was amazing. What had looked like a rummage sale's worth of paperbacks turned out to be books on Gallifrey. Time Lord history, botany, biology, ecology, and traditions; everything was discussed in one book or another. But Marnal Gates, whoever he was, hadn't written up indexes for his books, which meant she had to skim every one for information. The historical stuff was dead dull, and she flipped past it. But the stuff about Time Lord physiology-that might be useful.

Pausing on a page diagramming heat flow in and out of a body, she read

'The body must exchange heat with the air in order to maintain the proper temperature of 67 degrees F. ( 20 degrees C, 890 bova. )'

Twenty degrees? Wow, Rose thought. That explained why his skin was always so cool. And it might explain how he put up with temperatures from hot to bloody freezing without notice. She wanted to read more closely, but the clock was ticking. She skimmed on.

In a trip for more books, Rose checked on the Doctor. He was sleeping, but his head moved side to side, and his limbs thrashed out weakly. God, it was scary to see him floating there, writhing. Stepping inside, she touched his hand. It was as warm as her own. He made a strangled sound in his throat. She yawned- and stepped quickly out of the Zero Room. She had to do something.

She stuffed her jacket with new books, and hauled them along with her to the Wardrobe, where she grabbed a thin set of linen pajamas. If he normally had such a low body temperature, right now he was probably burning up.

Propping the door of the Zero Room open with her heavy jacket, she touched the wall controls. Please let this lower him.

To her relief, the Doctor drifted down. She slipped off his trainers, got him out of his suit jacket and shirt, and into the linens. It was times like this that reminded Rose of just how different the Doctor really was. It wasn't anything as obvious as the heartbeat on either side of his chest, but you noticed it; a sense of something _off_ about his muscle and bone structure. His neck and shoulders were normal enough, unless you looked closely and noticed two hollows, just where his collarbone joined the shoulder. And the outline of his ribs-that was wrong too. Their outline didn't go from side to side, but curved downwards diagonally, giving his chest an elongated heart shape. It was the same all over; bulges and indentations that hit Rose as out of place. Well, at least boxers were universal.

What else could she do? She skimmed a few more of the books. Only one mentioned Cloudbreak. She set it aside. The Doctor cried out.

Tea might help. Evaporated tea. She tried it; boiling four tea bags in a pot while she read, she took it into the Zero Room on a hot plate and waited, watching through the open door, until it sent up a constant column of steam. Evaporated tea had helped him when he'd regenerated, so maybe…

Breathing in the steam, he stopped thrashing, his chest rising and falling rhythmically again. But he didn't wake. Damn.

"Hold on." She whispered. "Please."

Rose went back to the books.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

He was in the storm. Thunder crashed all around.

No. Not a storm. He knew….

The thunder rumbled. And there were things out in the darkness; things that his eyes could not pick out. He couldn't hear enemies, couldn't hear anything over the storm. Where were they? Who?  
Don't know. Danger. All around.

He ran.

He was running around the console. In his TARDIS. The sound of explosions rocked around him. War. The Time Lords hadn't gone to war in a million years. And it was _his _fault. If he hadn't landed on that insignificant little red speck of a world…

_No time for that_.

He checked readouts. All working. Everything ready. A Dalek scout ship scudded into view, and he yelled as he fired into it, obliterating it. He pushed his ship forward into the race, aiming it at the larger Dalek ship ahead.

Another craft came into his viewing screen, hurtling beside him. The other TARDIS was stripped of its chameleon cloak as his own was. It had taken the form of a great rotating disc with razor sharp edging, spinning beside his own, which had made herself into a central capsule with four great prongs, pointed forward like spears. A face appeared on his dual-image screen.

"Ready for this, Doctor?" The thin face had no fear in it- only determination, a grim smile. He gave a grin of his own. It was Sunwatcher! If today was his last death, this man was one of those he'd want to share it with.

"Ready as I ever am, Sunwatcher!" They had played and done work together as boys. Worked together as men. Now they would fight together.

Sunwatcher's laugh rang around the room. "Too bad Arano isn't here. He'd love this. Always did love a race, he did."

"Oh he did! We'll do this one for him. Him and the Dancer."

That thin face, tanned from so many bright worlds, lit with a fierce joy. He remembered that look from a schoolboy fight, no matter that the face had changed. They were back together again. This was their time.

"We will."

They linked minds. Shared their anger, their rushing fury. Joined their joy for battle. Together they pushed their ships forward, screaming into the Dalek craft in flashes of light.

Working as one, he and the Sunwatcher ripped through vessel after vessel, imploding them with energy bursts as their TARDISs ripped apart their hulls. They caught a ship that had just destroyed an escape-ferry, and disintegrated it between them. He turned his ship about, anger in his blood like fire. Heat was all around him.

_Take the one to the left from the back, I'll…_

Three Dalek ships fired. The specialty cannons. Only ones that had that bright blue flame. His mind fragmented, ripped from the Sunwatcher's in a moment. The world was tumbling.

Sunwatcher.

_No_. Not the Sunwatcher.

Not another one.

He screamed out his rage and pain.

He was falling.

Cool. The world was cool. The rain must be falling. The thunder was far away again; thud, thud, thud.

How nice it was.

Someone touched his arm. He turned to see Galatia, sitting beside him. Her hazel eyes were wide and calm, smiling. Oh, how he'd missed her. How long it had been. He thought they'd be together for a thousand years or longer. Maybe forever. But they'd had barely over four hundred years.

This was a dream. He knew it was a dream now. But it was a dream he wanted to stay in as long as he could. He leaned back. The thunder was far away, and he could smell something sweet and clear; must be the rain.

"Hello, Gala."

She smiled at him, still as the galaxy shape she'd taken her name from. How he had loved the peace of her presence. It had balanced his wild nature. When he ran in three directions at a time, when he had been unable to find an answer, she had put a hand on his arm and imbued him with her calm. Their daughters had that peace within them. Their granddaughter did too.

Her hand found his, fresh and soft. She kissed him in the cool half-light. She smiled, though the thunder was growing close again.

"Hold on. Please."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Two hours later, Rose was about ready to scream. Three books had talked about the Cloudbreak. But none of them and said anything about treatment. Flipping through another book, she read,

'the Cloudbreak, or Vassilorin's Risk, is a collective name for a potentially lethal family of virus. However, unless the affected is prevented from returning to Gallifrey within three to four days of infection, the disease is easily cured.'

Then it went on to talk about Dakara's Play.

With a frustrated growl, Rose threw the book at the TARDIS door. It barely missed Rhia as she stepped in. The young Time Lord stared at her, then around the console room.

"Which library did you empty?"

Rose's hands balled themselves into fists.  
"I found everything on this bloody disease. Except how to cure it! These bloody books don't say!!"

Rhia lifted one of the books.

"Cloudbreak," she read aloud, "Or Vassilorin's Risk. Named either for the thundering sensation felt in the victim's head, or for Vassilorin, who-"

"Skip that bit." Rose said.

"The condition is not a danger to those in good health, but those recently regenerated or recovering should avoid the following planets'… And Fanti-Havi is on the list. Symptoms… 'A high fever, loss of coordination, and strong pain in the cranial region. As the disease progresses, the victim will sleep for protracted periods, with memory input into the frontal lobe creating vivid recollective dreams. The victim will wake at three to four hour intervals for periods of lucidity. The virus releases toxins that suppress most psycho-kinetic activity. An afflicted individual must be removed from all TARDIS-interface work, and an immediate return to Gallifrey, where the cure is plentiful, is required.'

"At least in human books they say things straight!" Rose growled.

Rhia nodded.

"We are expected to know what is being referred to."

"Well don't you? You're _from_ there."

"You are from Earth. Do you know how to treat brain cancer? How about malaria?"

Rhia's eyes flashed. Then she sighed.

"I am sorry. If I'd researched medicine, I would. But it was not my interest. And this disease is something that I've never dealt with before."

Rose took a breath as well. There was no point in yelling at the only other person she had, for now.

"Yeah. An' what's all this about psycho-uh…the energy?"

"Psycho-kinetic energy?" Rhia tapped her forehead.

"It's the energy our minds use, when properly disciplined. Psycho-kinetic energy is part of what we are; our telepathy and empathy, our link to our ships. It even triggers the reaction for a regeneration. That's the horror of Cloudbreak, it's like human cancer. It strips us of who we _are_."

"So if he dies from this…" Rose didn't want to hear the answer. But she had to ask.

Rhia lowered her eyes.

"Then it will be a final death."

The two girls looked at each other for a long moment. And Rose's watch started beeping.

"What is that?"

"Oh!" She glanced at her watch, and got to her feet.

"I programmed my watch for three hours, for when the Doctor might wake up. C'mon"

Rhia jumped up, striding across the room.

Opening the Zero-Room door, the girls found the Doctor awake and sitting up, floating like a Buddha figure. Though he was pale and there were deep lines under his eyes, he smiled happily enough

"Hello, ladies." Unfolding his legs, he floated down, touching the ground. Walking forward carefully, he took Rhia in a tight embrace. His wide eyes were alight, and he began to speak. Then he looked at Rose, and frowned. He closed his eyes tightly, wincing.

"I do keep losing touch, don't I?"

"Yeah. Y'do."

"Whoops. Try to fix that."

He turned back to his granddaughter.

"Suzz! My, my, little Susan. You've grown so much in two hundred years."

That constant quiet around Rhia had dissipated. Suddenly she was laughing, energetic. "I haven't been called Suzz since the last time I saw you! And your body- this one's so young!"

"Yep.Got tired of being an old codger. You've grown up so much, you really have. Did you choose a name yet?"

"I did." Rhia grinned shyly, looking years younger.

"Well?" The Doctor asked.

"I am the Walker, Grandfather."

"The Walker." The Doctor repeated, "Lah Rhia." He smiled; then closed his eyes.

"Ah…sorry. Can't seem to focus."

"We know. Cloudbreak."

"Oh yes. Not much fun. I remember something about this…is it psycho-suppressant?"

Rhia nodded.

"Damn. That would explain it. Rose, you didn't catch something too?"

Rose's head was nodding dangerously. She straightened, giving him a sheepish smile.

"No, Doctor. I just can't seem to keep my eyes open in this room."

The Doctor's brow wrinkled; then he glanced around the room.

"Ah yes. Zero Room would do that. Shuts out all cortical and semi-hindbrain stimulation. Gives a Time Lord brain a nice rest, but I suppose it'd put a human right out."

"Sorry." Rose moved for the door.  
"No trouble." The Doctor called after her. Then grandfather and grandchild were alone together. He smiled.

"Y'know, I'll probably still call you Suzz once in a while."

The Walker laughed quietly. "Yes, I suppose you will."

For a moment, they looked at each other in awkward silence.

"I thought…" the Walker faltered.

"I thought so too." The Doctor's eyes were riveted on her face.

"How…"

The Walker bowed her head.

"I received the signal to return home, but I…ignored it."

"Ignored it?"  
The Walker nodded.

"We…David and I…I was in love. I didn't want to lose him. I called for a ride home after a few years. Took him to Gallifrey with me. But we were received-badly. So badly that we chose to leave. I found a TARDIS I could bind with, and we went to Crespallian. Seventy-sixth century. But…"

"He was human." The Doctor's eyes were full of sympathy. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you'd…get over him in ten year's time. Grow out of him. Go live your own life. Frankly, I should have thought a bit more."

The Walker shook her head.

"I loved David, Grandfather. And we had a hundred good years together. When he died, I tried to follow the signal home. Ran into a great many Daleks along the way. Fought in a small theater of the War. But when I reached the end of the signal…there wasn't-wasn't…"

"I know."

The Walker could feel her grandfather's pain; deep, etching his mind.

"Did you fight?"

The Doctor closed his eyes.

"Yes. I fought. Right in the thick of it, really. At the epicenter. This disease has been giving me a nice rerun of it." The pain pouring off him was enough to swamp her. She couldn't imagine feeling that much. She had lost. But he had watched everything fall apart, first hand.

"Oh Grandfather. I'm sorry." She wrapped her arms around him.

The Doctor smiled at her, and opened his mouth- but a fit of coughing overtook him.

"I may be going out in a minute."

His head pounded constantly. He felt as if he was going deaf. Where the TARDIS usually hummed in his head, there was only heat and darkness. It was like holding a hurricane in his brain.

He couldn't feel his granddaughter's mind. But he could see the worry on her face. He tried to smile.

"C'mon, Suzz! Maybe I'll remember what I need, when I wake up. Or maybe you'll find what needs doing. You're a bright girl."

There were tears in her eyes. The Doctor smiled again.

"Still emotional at three-eighty? Thought you'd grow out of that."

"I suppose not." The Walker said, her voice indistinct. She hugged him tight, her body so cool against his overheated flesh.

"Ah. Part of your charm, anyway."

Then the storm overtook him.

_Author's Note: If you are an aficionado, you'll have noticed that I played with the timing of events as compared to the original show. I just couldn't believe that the Doctor sat around for 900 years, then got into travelling and as much trouble as he did that fast. I also couldn't stomach the idea that he'd decide his granddaughter was an adult in less than two years, when Time Lords grow at a much slower rate. So in my version, the original show (his first body) occurred when the Doctor was about 700. Hope this works. _

_Nerd check: Who knows Marnal Gates?_


	7. Chapter 7

7

"Don't carry that thing out in the open, Sark! It's silly. And it-"

"Makes me look like some sort of warmonger, I know. But I don't want to look like an easy meal, either, Bari. At least with a blitz-gun, they'll think twice before trying anything."

"A blitz-gun that belonged to your great-grandfather. Who used it to scare coolies out of his crop field."

"Says who?"  
"My great uncle on my mother's side. Remember Tarlari? Him. He helped your great-granddad with planting. Had to take that stupid thing away from him once too. Bet it doesn't even fire anymore"

"I hope it does. This may be a time to test it."

Barsali stared at him. Then her ears drooped. She glanced down at the mug in front of her, the look in her eyes making her mate feel like slime. Why couldn't he leave well enough alone? He'd brought them to this café with the express purpose of breaking the tension, cheering everyone up. Instead, they sat huddled together like others in the room, talking in low voices. It was as if the entire city was afraid to make too much noise, to draw attention. Cerak, a friend who had joined them when they came in, put her elongated neck around Barsali's shoulders.

"Perhaps it won't be needed." she said, quiet and soothing. "They're still in session. Still talking with the Triumvirate."

"An amazing step in itself." Thak nodded.

Sarkari looked up.

"When I went out to get the ammunition for this blitzer- don't look at me like that, Bari!- anyway, a cousin of my aunt's little daughter told me that the Mirans were explaining their plans to the delegates. Imagine that! The nightmares brought into the light! I don't think I've ever heard even a simple description of what Mirans do on the planets they claim. And here they are, making a full explanation. Or at least, a discussion."

"That's what it said on the combox too." An acquaintance said, passing their table.

Sarkari glanced at the combox situated at the far end of the room. It showed more pictures of the Triumvirate House. Nothing new there.

"Quite." Thak inclined his head."A definite first. And I have heard- " he paused, his long neck lowering to bring his head eye-level with the two Fanti-"I have heard that it is the Walker's doing."

Ears perked forward. Tails stood taunt. Others nearby were suddenly jostling to get nearer to their table.

"The Walker!"

"She's a legend!'  
"She is not!"

"Oh, Thak! Tell us!"

"Is she really here?"

Thak inclined his head slightly.

"Here and fighting for us, by all accounts. Speaking for us, rather. I had words with Triumvirate delegates who are acquaintances. They overheard several Mirans complaining of the fact that we called the Walker. Save that-"

"We never call her." Barsali said

"She just shows up when we need her, yes yes!" Sarkari finished.

Thak snorted. A Fanti could never finish a sentence. Or let someone else finish. But his friends were better than some. Their voices sped up as they spoke, chiming in with others.

"If the Walker's here, if she's here, we'll- "

"We'll be all right! She saved three worlds in one day, and then still came home-"

"Came home and went dancing with the Sar in the Crystal Sea! She can knock anything flat!"

"Flat on its tail!"

Fanti hurried to other tables, spreading the word. And suddenly, the room was not quite so dismal. The voices were still low. But they had lost the edge of fear. Someone turned up the combox.

"In two hours, the Triumvirate will disseminate the exact information, and request a planetary vote on this possible alliance."

"At least I know how to vote on this!" someone said. Laughter rose; sweet, relieved laughter.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rhia-or the Walker, Rose supposed- strode back into the console room. For a second, looking at her, Rose was a little afraid. The girl's dark eyes were red-rimmed, and she held herself as her grandfather did when he entered a battle. Those eyes fixed on Rose.

"Come with me."

"Is the Doctor okay?"

"He is not. But he is still alive. And I _won't_ lose him a second time."

She strode across the console room, and out the door. After a moment, Rose followed.

Outside, the Walker had stopped in front of a small lacquered-wood pagoda that stood a few meters from the TARDIS. Rose watched her. The structure was no different from any other pagoda that Rose had seen in the city. But she _knew_ it hadn't been there when they'd landed.

"Is that-"

The Walker said nothing. She opened the door, and stepped inside. Rose followed her.

Behind the pagoda door was something that looked like a comfortable sitting room, save the elegant column rising to its ceiling, filled with thin glass spires that shone blue-white.

"Come this way." The Walker's voice called. Rose followed it, past several overstuffed armchairs and a lamp designed in the shape of a tree.

"In here. Through the door."

Rose stepped into a library. Row upon row of honey-colored shelves circled the wide room. The Walker was several shelves down, running a hand over the spines.

"Come and help me."  
Rose hurried over.

"Travel books…botany….memoirs…" The Walker murmured to herself, shaking her head.

"Not here. Down further." She raised her voice.

"We're looking for something called the Book of Balance. It's fairly treatment specific."

Her long hand darted out.

"Here"

Opening the book, the Walker began to read, riffling the pages at an impossible rate. Rose had seen the Doctor do this as well; he'd read _War and Peace_ in three minutes, to check a detail. She wished she could get a bit of that for herself.

The covers of the book snapped as the Walker closed it. She laid it back on the shelf, staring at the nondescript brown of its binding. That wasn't a good expression.  
"Did it say?" Rose asked.

The Walker looked at her. And there was pain in her eyes. More pain than anyone should hold.

She swallowed convulsively.

"Yes. It did." She turned.

"Not that it's much good."

Rose wrinkled her brow.

"Why?"

The Walker drew a long, shaky breath. When she spoke, her voice came as if from far away.

"The cure doesn't exist anymore. It's… gone."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

He was dreaming. Further and further back. He was ninety-five again, a boy with fine black hair and quick, dark eyes. He breathed in the spicy smell of the vala, squeezing red blades between his fingers. His friends lolled in the vala around him, all together; Rana with her quick smile, Shas, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Theta was on his back, staring up at the Red Sun. Kappa and Zed passed around the bottle of methanol they'd sneaked out of the Dreamer's office.

"C'mon, Delta! Have a bit!"

He shrugged, and swigged a bit of the fiery liquid. Before his vision blurred, he pulled up a handful of vala and chewed it, swallowing in a gulp. It did _not_ taste as nice as it smelled.

Everyone took a swig, followed by the vala that kept them strong. Across from him, Sen failed to eat enough, and fell back, laughing as orange sky spun above him.

"Whoa, Sen!" he joked, "I thought you could master anything!"  
"Except drinking!" Zed put in.

Sen struggled to sit up."I'll be a master of that, too! Just let me get some practice!"

"Well, eat more then. I don't want to take your notes in stellar thermodynamics. Though you might get a better grade if I did!"

Sen glared at him.

"Aw, Delta!" Theta said, "Quit trying to be our physician. Besides, I'd top you both in stellar studies any day."

He grinned. "Nah. You spend so much time staring at the suns, your eyes are burned out. You couldn't even read the paper!"

The others fell about laughing; bright red vala in their hair, the scent in their clothes.

He opened his eyes. Darkness.

"Vala. Red grass."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"It was Vala. A Gallifreyan herb. _The_ Gallifreyan plant, really. It grew anywhere. Everywhere. Must be why the books assumed the cure was known. Vala!" The Walker laughed, high and sharp.

Rose had seen enough with the Doctor to recognize hysteria when she saw it. She frowned. Whatever else the Walker was, she was a girl who might be losing her grandfather.

"Could we find something like it?" Rose asked. The Walker shook her head.

"Not in time. Not with the little that I know."

She laughed again, her head tipping back.

"Vala! It used to turn all the hills red in the second season!"

Rose stared at her. Had she said…

"You say red?"

"Yes. Bright red. Like-like earth grass. And…Rose! Where…"

But Rose didn't answer her. She was running.

"C'mon, Walker!"

Rose skidded down the halls of the Doctor's TARDIS, hoping like mad that the room was in the same place as last time. The Walker careened after her. "Where are you going?" she called out.

"The Doctor's room!"

"His room?"

"Just come on!"

This had to be the right door. Finally. Rose pushed it open, releasing the spicy scent. She rushed inside, dropping to her knees, pulling at the grass. She glanced back at the doorway, where the Walker stood as if she was frozen.

"Get in here and help me!"

Soon they'd gathered enough of the long red grass to fill the Walker's skirt.

"What do we need to do with this?"  
"Boil it." The Walker replied, "Into a tisane."

"Kitchen. C'mon!"

They dumped the grass into a pot, filling it with water.

"It needs a little pressure-" the Walker said, "put the lid on. That should do it. How soon will he awake?"

"Twenty minutes or so."

The Walker grinned.

"Good. It will be ready."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The pilot kept the ship at a high speed. They had been told to make haste; it had already taken them ninety-two days. She turned at the movement of her copilot.

"Check the offspring."

He left his chair to comply. She switched on the screen that monitored the first deck.

The offspring were still, for the most part. There were scuffles near the automated feeding machines. But nothing serious. Even small Mirans had tough hides. And these were eight-month-olds, half the size of an adult.

On-screen, one of the offspring turned, and bit into the leg of a litter mate who had tried to steal a chunk of meat. The injured party returned with a snap of jaws to the throat.

The spines on the pilot's arms rose. If offspring killed each other on her vessel, she would be punished. She sprang for the control panel.

Fortunately, her copilot had reached that section. He pressed the switch that released relaxation pheromones into the air. The offspring stopped fighting.

The pilot relaxed. Danger removed.

She returned her attention to her ship. Much less trouble than offspring. Ferrying them out to distant worlds was a position full of risk. But she would succeed. Continue to succeed for three years. Then she would have a guide ship, and a crew of her own. A mature crew of fellow sixteen and seventeen year olds. She would no longer risk on every journey. Leave this work to a younger Miran. Perhaps, in eight years, this ship would be piloted by one of the offspring it now ferried. Though at the moment, they showed little of the intelligence they would gain.

The pilot checked coordinates. She could not remember her years on four legs. The years before her frontal brain had matured. But occasionally she dreamed of hunting and fighting like a two-year old.

These offspring would have good hunting grounds. The planet on her course was said to be rich.

On the screen, her copilot moved down the row of pens that stretched out of sight. It would take him several hours to check the hundreds of pens, hundreds of offspring.

And they would still need to check the lower deck.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Waiting for the stove timer to go off was torture. Rose sat on the counter, kicking her heels against the cupboard. The Walker leaned against the opposite wall, her eyes closed.

The Walker. Why didn't she just give Rose her usual name in the first place? Rhia. The Doctor had called her 'lah Rhia.' Then, of course, 'the Doctor' wasn't his _real _name. It was just who he was, what he did. What was it with Time Lords and names?

The silence was oppressive.

"So," Rose said, "What was the fake name for?"

"Hm?"

"Rhia. Isn't that just, well, just 'walker' in your language?"  
Her eyes opened. "How did you know?"

Rose shrugged.

"Heard the Doctor say it when he switched languages."

The Walker dropped her eyes. "I am sorry. I…picked up a few bad habits concerning humans. One of them is a tendency to tell them-you, what you expect to hear. Give a name that doesn't challenge any ideas. "

Rose snorted.

"I've been travelling with the Doctor for a while now. I expect anything."

The Walker smiled, slightly.

"You have a point there. When I traveled with Grandfather, I was always eager and nervous, in equal measure. Well, perhaps not nervous enough. But I did have such fun!"

"You traveled with the Doctor?" Rose asked. The Walker nodded.

"A hundred years of wandering. It was lovely. Mind you, Grandfather was rather sour at first. Took him time to warm up to the universe."

She glanced at the stove.

"Ten minutes."

Silence.

"So how old were you when you went off?"

"About eighty-five." The Walker replied. Rose wrinkled her brow.

"How old's that, in human terms?"

The Walker ran fingers through her dark bob.

"Ten… or perhaps eleven. My father nearly dropped me in a vortex when he heard."

Rose chuckled.

"Yeah. My mum had trouble letting me go too. Put up a right fuss."

The Walker met her eyes, and they shared a smile. The timer went off.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Doctor was awake. But he kept his eyes closed. They hurt. Everything hurt. His head rang. His hearts were pounding. Throat raw. His muscles felt as if they were being unstrung.

At least the dreams were gone, for now.

He coughed. He couldn't breathe. Drowning. His breathing grew ragged as his respiratory bypass system kicked in.

_Calm down. Breathe._

He tried to relax. To let the pain go. Heat and darkness nearly drowned him. He fought to stay conscious.

_Just. Breathe._

He couldn't feel his TARDIS. He reached out for her. Pain lanced through him.

_Not now. Just breathe._

There was the sound of a door opening. Light and heat seared into him.

_Go away. Leave me alone._

He must be dreaming again. He was falling.

Suzz was calling him. Suzz needed him. His eyes opened. Little Suzz, smiling down at him.

"You were right, Grandfather. I found it."

Something touched his lips.

"Drink."

And there was the girl, leaning down beside him. Romana! No. Not Romana. But she was blonde and bright. He knew her. She smiled.

"Down the hatch, Doctor."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The word was running through the streets. Everyone needed to go to one of the Vita Houses. Needed to vote. Needed to listen to what the Mirans wanted.

They were asking for Fanti-Havi to foster five million of their children. Their meat-eating children. They had suggested that the Fanti-Havians could use their dead to feed the creatures, as other planets had done. They'd also recommended that the people accept population restrictions to balance the new strain. In exchange for this service, they'd give the planet new technologies, new ways of doing things. New tools to make life easier. Faster ships to replace their own, which got them to the end of their solar system in eight hours.

Few were tempted by the offer. Words ran through the homes, the shops, the cafés.

"They're not asking us these things. They're telling us."

"We could take a few of their young. But not _millions_."

"Foster their children, and not our own?"

"They're not compromising on their terms at all. Did you hear that?"

Four hours. The Fertile City's vote was tabulated; a no. Votes were coming in from the Blue City, the Crystal City, the White City too. Rural votes were being flown in.

Seven hours. No. No. No. The votes were tabulated.

"No! That's what we say!"

A Fanti slammed his fist on a nearby table. There were several cheers.

"The Mirans have lost for sure. It's been constant on the news. They should have compromised."

Sarkari nodded to the Sar, agreeing with the comment. Barsali was leaned against his shoulder.

"Told you it would be all right, Bari." He said. She nodded into his neck.

"S'pose you won't need that silly blitz-gun, after all."

"Here's to the Triumvirate!" somebody shouted, as another negative vote was transmitted on the combox. A cheer went up.

Outside, light flashed. Heads turned.

"Stay here." Sarkari said. He lifted Barsali's head from his shoulder, and stepped out with a few others.

They glanced about. Everything seemed right. Sarkari was about to step back inside, when his eyes fell on the message to the side of the café door.

It was longer than before.

Blinking, Sarkari read the message again. Now there was a statement beneath the greeting; You have officially voted to join our federation. You will be alerted when your charges arrive.

_What?_

"But votes are still coming in!"

"Got to be a mistake."

Sarkari turned to the house across the street. There were words on its wall as well.

In order to provide adequately for all inhabitants, this household is allowed three offspring.

He looked next door. Every house had such a message.

Sarkari ran down the street. Back to his own house. He skidded to a stop in front of his door. There it was. On the wall. In order to provide adequately for all inhabitants, this household is allowed one offspring.

The fur on his arms, his neck, the ridge along his back stood on end. This was wrong. The votes had been negative! How _dare_ they dictate the number of kits he and Barsali could have! They had _no right._

He glanced at the blitz gun, shoved into his sarong. Pulled it out. Hefted the grip, getting a feel for the weapon.

"Maybe I will be needing this. Yes. Maybe I will."

All around the world, other weapons were readied. Other tempers flared.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Eight hours and ten cups of vala tea. Rose and the Walker sat in the console room, reading Marnal Gates's books to pass the time. The Walker had finished most of them already, drinking them in.

Rose was poring over a picture of the City of the High Council.  
"You ever go there?" she asked.

The Walker stopped riffling pages, and glanced over.

"The high council seat? Yes, once. Wasn't very enjoyable."

"Oh?"

The Walker shrugged.

"A conclave of eight and nine-thousand year old elders, waffling along in their ceremonial robes, ignoring anyone under a thousand. They didn't approve of Grandfather. Said he interfered too much, ought to stay more objective. We didn't stay long. But the city was lovely."

Nine thousand. Rose had read that Time Lords lived around twelve thousand years. But those numbers had trouble registering in her brain.

"Where did he get these?" the Walker asked. Rose shook her head.

"Search me. They look like old paperbacks."

She flipped a page in _The Song of Ages_.

"Says this one was printed in 1962."

"They're amazing." The Walker said, softly. She stared at the cover of a book which showed a bright city, floating high over a ring of mountains.

Rose smiled.

"Yeah. And now I know about all your mad biology. Honestly, you lot get all the advantages."

The Walker raised her head, looking Rose in the eye.

"Not all the advantages. Not all."

Then her pretty face turned away, back to her book.

Rose didn't know what to say to that. She turned a page.

There was something distracting her, though. Something like a tickle in the back of her head. The sound of riffling pages had stopped.

A door creaked.

"Oh. This a private study session?"

Rose's head shot up. And there was the Doctor, leaned against the doorframe, smiling.

Books went flying as granddaughter and companion ran to embrace him. They were a jumble of arms and legs and laughter.

Rose punched the Doctor's arm.

"About time you were up, slug-a-bed!"

"Ooh! Lesse how much I take care of you next time you get the flu!"

"It should be a lot, Grandfather! You owe her!"

They jabbered together, laughing. Then the Walker said he'd better have one more cup of vala. Arm in arm, the three of them were about to head down to the kitchen, when a pounding came on the TARDIS door.

"Hello! Who's knocking?"

The Doctor disentangled himself, striding over to the door, followed by both girls. He swung it wide.

A small crowd of Fanti-Havians stood outside. The Fanti in the lead blinked at the Doctor-then caught sight of the Walker. He made a little bow, hands held out.

"My Lady Walker. Someone said they'd seen you step into-" he waved a hand at the TARDIS, "this."

The Walker stepped forward.

"Yes?"

"The Triumvirate asks for your aid, My Lady. The Mirans have ignored the vote we took. Diplomatic communication has ceased. They're sending out edicts in our city."

The Walker sighed, turning to the Doctor.

_I thought I'd sorted this out._

He smiled.

"Bring everyone inside, where we can chat for a bit. By the way…" he glanced down at the white linen pajamas, then from his granddaughter to Rose.

"Can I have my suit back?"


	8. Chapter 8

8

The Doctor couldn't help smiling to himself as he listened to his granddaughter speak, cooling tempers and gathering information. He'd told her that she was an adult at a hundred and eighty. But at three hundred and eighty five, she'd really grown into her abilities. Her voice rang around the room.

"Delegates! You will accomplish nothing by losing tempers. I've spoken with the Miran landing parties; they are a race without complex emotion. We need to think analytically if we are to deal with them. We need to be calm."

The incoming dignitaries quieted. There were a few nods.

He listened closely, getting a picture of the situation as the Walker answered a questions, explaining what she'd learned in her meetings. Meetings! Facing down one roomful of Mirans took skill. And a bit of courage. And, at least in his case, a tight rein on the temper. Mirans took self-absorption to a new level; being reptiles, they physiologically didn't think of anything that didn't concern either themselves directly, or their race, as an extension of them. Only what constituted harm or benefit to the Miran was considered, a fault of the reptilian brain that made them rather dangerous. In ten million years, when Mirans evolved a few more neural structures, they would be a beautiful people. At the moment, they had just enough aptitude to be truly frustrating.

And from the sound of it, the Walker had dealt with more than one lot of them; she'd gone to six cities, faced the leaders of six landing parties, and given them a warning and a choice. Apparently it had worked, at least at first. But something had changed; something that made them believe they were safe in going on with a colonization.

Which was why twenty Havi, twenty Fanti and twenty Sar were milling around the sitting room of his TARDIS, which had needed to stretch and rearrange itself quite a bit to accommodate everyone. He noticed the couch and chairs from the third library, the settee from one of the hallways, and even a mattress, which several Havi were sitting on. He hoped everything would get put back in its proper place later. The TARDIS gave a reassuring little ripple through his mind.

"So, this is the ruling party?" Rose whispered, leaning over on the couch. The Doctor nodded.

"The Inner Ring, 'parently. Bit like the Prime Minister's Cabinet. They wanted to call the full Triumvirate, which is about ninety of each lot, so I'm told. But what we need right now is a discussion, not a government procedure. Much easier to just stop by and pick this bunch up, than sit around in some great government house."

"What's with you and governments?"

"Load of trouble…tell you later. Ssh."

The Walker stood in the center of a rough semi-circle of couches and chairs, facing the crowd.

"That is the situation as I have seen it. I had assumed that, as the vote was being taken, they'd chosen to follow a peaceful course. Had you sent any of the votes to the Mirans before the message appeared?"

A Sar stood, and made a small bow. Unlike others of his species, he was wearing decoration; a wide bronze collar around his neck, set with three blue gems.

"We had, my Lady. Each continent sent their votes to the Fertile City, and we sent them on once they were tabulated."

"Don't call me 'my lady', Barku. I'm the Walker. And the votes were negative?"

"Ninety-seven percent negative, my Lady."

"And fifteen minutes after we gave them the results, that message appeared on the walls, pretty as you please, just as if we'd said 'yes, welcome!'" The Fanti who had been speaking stood, her tail switching from side to side. The bronze collar around her neck gleamed with three yellow stones.

Others spoke in agreement.

"Yes, along with those _restrictions_ on the number of children we could have!"

The noise level climbed.

"We won't stand for this!"

"We said _no_!"

"Mirans are marching around our streets! If they keep it up, soon someone's going to hit one of them."

"Maybe they should!"

"Let's call a vote! We'll fight!"

"ENOUGH!"

A Havi reared up on his hind legs, the great collar around his neck gleaming in the light.

"Yousori is one of your high Triune. She spoke. That does not open the floor." Settling back on all fours, he nodded to the Walker, who looked a bit surprised.

"Thank you, Rark. Delegates, war against this enemy is a war you cannot win. They are a warrior race, while you…" she glanced around the room- "You've done away with fighting. Remember. We can find a solution to this that does not result in war."

The members of the Inner Ring, for all their age, all their government experience, suddenly looked a bit like kids who realize they've been too rowdy. The room hushed.

The Walker spoke quietly. "Perhaps we'll all understand if we start from the beginning. Could you tell me about the negotiations you held with the Mirans? What details you were given, concerning this alliance?"

The Havi and Fanti Triune members gave most of the explanation, with details thrown in from around the room. It got a bit confusing, with words coming from every corner, and the thoughts of the rather telepathic Havi mixing around the room. On his left, Rose was glancing around, trying to follow the flow of conversation. Good luck there. She leaned over. "High triune?" she asked.

"The three wearing the collars. Think of them like three prime ministers. Of the planet, that is."

In all the talking, the details came clear. Apparently, the Mirans had simply said that they'd like the planet to foster five million of their children, cut back native birth rates to ensure plenty of food for the fosterlings, and accept new technology as payment. Dismantle their way of life, in effect. And the Mirans had skipped over the less pleasant aspects that such a deal entailed with true skill. They used understatement like an art form. You did have to give them that.

Rose sat forward, speaking up. "Um, question. Why can't they raise children for themselves?" The Doctor shrugged.

"'Cause Mirans are the cowbirds of the universe. And their kids are really horrific."

The eyes of nearby delegates fixed on him. Better explain.

"I mean it. Right little terrors. The Miran forebrain takes eight years to start working. 'Til then they're just lizards; big, hungry lizards. Taste for meat. Mum and Dad don't take to them very much-well, who would?- and they do their best to foist them off."

The Walker turned at his words. So did the Sar member of the Triune.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor." He said absently.

"One of my people." The Walker explained, "He's here to help. And he's right; I'm afraid that you haven't been given all the details. The Miran people have difficulty rearing their own young. Their children are not easy to care for-they are built to hunt from the moment they are born. The Miran home world does not have enough prey for all the progeny their adults hatch. Once they reach a certain age, they are sent to foster planets, commodious places where the Mirans can mature. They are able to do this on planets below class 4, planets without viable space-travel, because they are able to class it as a benign world-improvement program."

It was amazing what loopholes still existed in the Shadow Proclamation.

"Then why are they coming here?" the Fanti member of the Triune asked. "Our space-faring technology is fairly good. We can get to the edge of this galaxy in a year!"

"Yes, that's why I- why they were required to discuss the situation with you, to ask for a vote. And they were following proper diplomatic channels. Then they changed tactics. Why?"

A babble of voices broke out again.

"Doctor," Rose said, "Could they have been trying to rig the vote? Y'know, make it look like it had come out for them, when it hadn't?"

The Doctor's brow wrinkled- then he shook his head.

"Pretty sloppy way to do it, don't you think? With the Triumvirate holding all the figures that prove them wrong. Even your politicians can top that, Rose. And Mirans aren't that thick."

"So why take a vote, then ignore it?"

The Doctor stood, running fingers through his hair.

"Why indeed? Why take a vote, then ignore it?" There was something obvious he was missing here. They'd never intended to take a vote on this planet. They'd intended to walk in and take over. And they had the technology to do it. Fanti-Havi had no standing armies, and very few weapons. The Mirans were at neither disadvantage. But how did they expect to get away with it?

The Walker glanced at him. She ran fingers vaguely through her dark bob, her head down, eyes turned inward. Her mind was as convoluted as his own.

"Something is wrong here. Something missing."

"Someone's telling the wrong story." He murmured. He glanced up. And realized that his granddaughter was staring at him. Her mind suddenly gave off something bright. An idea.

"What is it?" he asked her.

She stared at him, her eyes wide and dark. "I'm not sure. Do you know about the Miran chain of command?"

"Not much. Only by reputation. But…"

Suddenly, he jumped to his feet.

"I know where I can find out! Back in a mo!"

Rose and the members of the Inner Ring stared at one another, then at the Walker. She barely seemed to notice. Her eyes were on the door that the Doctor had dashed through.

"Know your enemy." She murmured.

And the Doctor was running back, books under his arm.

He handed a flat reading screen to the Walker, and passed books around, pulling more from the pockets of his coat.

"Know your enemy, I always say! Get into these, and we'll find out!"

Fanti and Sar traded information. The Walker and the Doctor sped-read through their databases. Rose turned pages for Havi.

"What are we looking for?" someone asked.

"Anything on their chain of command, or communication with their homeworld." The Walker said, eyes still on the flashing screen in front of her.

"Here!" one of the Fanti delegates cried out. Coming to the center of the room, she read aloud, "During a colonization foray, Mirans follow a set program; a survey is taken of the planet. If it is found to be both habitable and below the class-4 level, the leader or Lord Admiral will land first, directing the following survey parties. Due to the tendency for Miran underlings to attempt to gain higher positions by reporting information that reflects well on them, strict radio silence is enforced. The signaling system is encoded, accessible only to the Lord Admiral. It is his position to tabulate all findings on the system, and send the information to Kai-Mira, which will make a ruling and send an encoded diplomatic message in return within a year. The Lord Admiral will then disseminate the information to his followers. Once the information has been sent to all parts of the planet, the offspring will be sent."

"Yes!" The Walker's eyes lit up.

"Right!" said the Doctor. "So the good ol' Lord Admiral has been changing the details before he writes home. Fanti Havi hands him one thing, and Kai Mira's receiving quite another."

"Lord Admiral…" the Walker looked around the room.

"Which ship landed first?"

Members if the Triumvirate murmured together, some pulling out comlinks, asking questions.

"It seems the main ship in this city landed first." A Havi said.

"That's what I'm getting." Said a large female Fanti. Others agreed.

The Walker's face set. Her grandfather smiled slightly. And the spark in their eyes was exactly the same. The Doctor stood.

"I think it's time for us to go have a chat."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The plan was succeeding. The plan would succeed. Rass watched as the ferry ship docked. Slowly, offspring were beamed onto the waiting crates in his ship. The communications had gone through quickly. Sending them one hundred days ago had properly timed all events. And Kai Mira had approved his report. Without a hint of doubt.

It had been close. Very close. The encoded files had almost deleted themselves in the extent of time. But all difficulty was now past. The proper messages were sent. And by law, the planet became responsible once the offspring touched its soil. All that was required now was the broadcasting of the foster-release message, and the press of a few buttons. And then he would be rewarded.

He was nearly alone in the great observation room. Most of his men worked in the decks below, making preparations. They were cooperative. Many of them were working quickly, with the knowledge that they would be back on Kai Mira in a hundred and fifty days.

The voiceover crackled. "Release mechanisms in place, Lord Admiral. Awaiting the order."

"Good."

Rass ran a claw down the grey of his uniform. Soon it would be the black of a Grand Admiral. And he would be free to choose. Free to mate. Free, before his body wore out. He was near that time. If he had not succeeded, he would have died without passing on his blood. He had won.

A crewmember hissed a warning. The air was filled with a pulsating whirr. And the Walker stepped out of its ship.

For a moment, Rass felt an overwhelming urge to bite something. Fear. Fear like he had not felt in ages, welling up in him.

"My Lord Rass. I'd like a word."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Rose closed the TARDIS door behind her. They were on the deck of a ship that was all smooth, grey surfaces. Around the room, several Mirans stood, the green of their uniforms nearly the same color as their scales. Blue eyes fixed on them. No, not on them. On the Miran dressed in grey, standing in front of them.

"Your technology is admirable, Walker. But entering this ship could be seen as an act of hostility." His voice was like sand rubbed over concrete.

"So could invading a sentient planet." The Walker replied pleasantly.

The serpentine head bobbed.

"You misunderstand. This cannot be classified as-"

"A hostile invasion, I know. " The Walker's deep eyes fixed on the Lord Commander.

"But that is what it _is._ You were warned, my Lord. Your choice was a poor one."

The Miran turned, nodding to one of his men. He returned his gaze to the Walker.

"A vote was taken."

"Yes, well, the thing about votes is, you have to do what they decide at the polls. Stop if the voters say stop." The Doctor smiled. "Guess you missed that bit."

The admiral's eyes moved to the Doctor.

"Who is this individual?"

The Walker smiled, a dangerous grin.

"He is the Doctor. A Time Lord, and one far older and more powerful than myself. He'll be helping to resolve this situation."

The Miran leader's head bobbed again.

"It has been resolved. The offspring release message had been given."

"_Release?!_" the Walker's voice rang through the room.

"Your offspring are on planet?"

"They will be settled."

"And Kai-Mira is twenty light years away, am I right? And your ship uses-" she glanced around the room.

"technology that cannot move at anything like that speed. It should have taken a year. Or more." She stared at the Miran a moment-and her brows drew together. "There is no way your planet would send their children directly after a scout ship. What if you didn't find anything habitable? And it'd take them just as long or longer to get here as it did you. You would have had to call them almost a year ago to get them here today, yet you only just arrived yourself. How can you continue before your report is filed and approved?"

"There is a report on file in the Archives." The Admiral said. "It states that this planet is a habitable class-4 world, capable of fostering 10 million young. It updates several faulty past reports."

"And it's also a load of rot." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, staring at the reptile's implacabale face- and froze. "Walker, I think we've been a bit thick. This lad is lying through his sharp little teeth." He raised his voice, speaking to the Admiral. "We thought you'd just been rewriting reports. But it's more than that, isn't it? Quite a bit more. You've had this plan since the moment you left home. Picked a planet that was habitable but unexplored, and only one short bit of a year away. Get going at top speed, but send the message before you're even out of the gate, a report that makes it look like you're _two_ years out or more, and all set up on this nice little world. A complete mock-up report. And I'd _love _to see what trick you played back with the computers to make it look like you've been travelling longer. No matter what you find what you get here, you'll just lump it, because doing anything else will slip you up. And you've got the weapons for the work. Oh, do you have weapons! Anything for a planet you didn't have to go too far for. You must really hate space travel."

"Is that right, Lord Admiral?" the Walker asked. Rose could see small spines rising on the Admiral's arms. Was he nervous? He would be if he had any sense. The look in the Walker's eyes was deadly.

"You fail to comprehend. This planet is primitive. We will be improving it."

One of his men held up a hand. He nodded, before returning his gaze to the Walker.

"I'll ignore the fact that it is a very poor reason. But primitive? Fanti-Havi? Is a planet with ships as fast as your own _primitive _?"

"This planet will be compensated."

"And you never intended to abide by the vote, did you? It was a blind."

The thrum of the ship's workings increased in pitch. The Miran blinked, long and slow. Then he turned his back on them. The Walker's hands were balled into tight fists. Rose didn't need to be a telepath to feel the anger and frustration pouring off her.

"Reptiles." The Doctor said under his breath. Stepping forward, he put a hand on his granddaughter's shoulder. They shared a long look. The Doctor nodded, smiled tightly, and strode forward.

"Erm, question here. Does deafness run in your family?"

The admiral turned, slowly, to face the Doctor.

"What?"

"Ah. Apperently. Must explain why you haven't heard a word the Walker's said. Well, I've got a loud voice. So listen to me. You can stop this. You can stop now. We have the technology to find you a nice, suitable, uninhabited planet, no more than a year away from here. A perfect place to settle your kids. If you leave now, no bones broken." He took a step closer to the Miran.

"But if you continue, then this whole thing will blow up in your face. I'll light the fuse for you. Your planet will find out. The Shadow Proclamation will find out. Any hopes you have for the future, out the window. You'll lose. Everything."

Miran and Time Lord stared at one another. This was what amazed Rose. As angry as the Doctor was, he was still giving this idiot a chance.

The Admiral turned away. He walked towards a bank of controls. The Doctor cocked his head. He'd seen creatures cowed by his anger. Angered in return. Occasionally amused. But no one had ever been-indifferent.

He reached out, sensing the Admiral's mind. His presence was barely registered by the reptilian brain. He didn't constitute a threat…

Then he realized why. The nod of the head. The raised hand. All that talking had been pointless; the offspring had already been released when he spoke.

"No!"

The Walker took up the image. And dashed after her grandfather, towards the controls. Maybe they could call the creatures back, reverse the teleportation.

"A threat." The Admiral hissed.

"Kill them."

The crew ran at them. The Doctor skidded into an about-turn, grabbing the Walker's hand as he rushed back to the TARDIS. They crossed the room like chain lightning, the TARDIS's shields closing on their heels. The Mirans literally ran into the shield barricade, bouncing backwards.

Behind the shield, the Doctor turned. His eyes were burning. What the Admiral saw in him made all the spines rise, and a great blood-red frill extend around his neck. Rose could see why. Anger burned in the Doctor, pure and clear, hot as a star. Anger, and all the power to act upon it. He took a step forward.

"You were given a chance, Lord Admiral Rass Kadula of the Fourth Fleet. You wasted it. And now, you're going to regret it."

Motioning the girls into his TARDIS, he walked inside. The last Rass saw of him were those terrible eyes, staring at him, as the Time Lord closed the door.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The flash of light again. What could it be now? Sarkari rushed to look outside.

Your charges are arriving. Meat is the preferred food source. The willful injury of an offspring will result in execution.

"Sark?"

Sarkari ran back inside.

"The offspring! They're delivering them."

Barsali stared at him.

"What?"

"The message. It says they're delivering-"

Another flash of light. Inside the room. When Sarkari could open his eyes again, there was a box sitting in their living room. Smooth. Grey. As high as his waist.

For a moment, the room was still.

Then the box shook.

Sarkari stepped in front of his mate. The box shook again-and fell open.

The thing inside the box looked like a Miran. But it wore no clothing. It moved on all fours. And its eyes held no hint of sentience. Only a hunter's gleam.

It raised its head lazily-sniffed-and began, slowly, to walk towards Sarkari.

_Author's Note: This is the first time I've really written an adventure tale. I feel like this gets a bit…convoluted. Is it okay? Please review._


	9. Chapter 9

9

"That didn't go well!" the Walker said, her hands dancing over the console.

"Right in one." The Doctor pulled a lever. Then his head shot up.

"Walker! What are you doing with the grava-thruster?"

"Working it towards the directional flux."

"Who taught you to pilot like that?"

"You did!"  
"I'm absolutely sure I never taught you to do something as mad as that!"

"It works!"

The central column stopped its movement. The Doctor put a hand to the back of his neck.

"All right, safe for the mo. Now, what are we going to do?"

The Walker stared at him. Her hands were still balled in tight fist.

"We've got to do _something_. Or…."

She stilled a moment. Her eyes were on her grandfather, but wide, unfocused.

"Grandfather…."

"I know. I already looked. The Mirans stay here, and this planet is pretty well scrapped. Ecology in tatters, culture lost, the whole… "

He looked at his granddaughter, then walked around the console, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"That's why we're going to make sure they _don't_ stay. They have no right to be here."

The Walker shook her head, eyes refocusing. Suddenly, her body seemed as infused with energy as the Doctor's.

"We've got to contact the Shadow Proclamation. Call our bluff."

The Doctor nodded. "Good start, but you know how long they take to do anything. Time's of the essence."

"Time. What about going back and blocking their entry?"

"You going to jump into the middle of your own timeline, you are? You know better than that. Besides, blocking six ships at one time? No possibility. What if we… no, right, bad idea. What about jumping back further, stopping the good Lord at his start?"

Their voices grew faster as they spoke, running through their sentences in a way that told Rose they were speaking in thoughts as much as words. She sat in the console seat, watching as plans and ideas shot between the Time Lords with increasing speed.

"Have you the variable that started his trip?"

"No. And no real lead to sorting it out. Right, not that either. All right, what about-yes, I know, I can see that too." The Doctor was pacing from side to side, hands deep in his pockets. The Walker's head was down, fingers knotted in her hair.

"What about using a few weapons of our own?"

"And get the planet into a war?" The Doctor shook his head.

"Grandfather, how about- Oh, I see. This is…"

The constant chatter made Rose's head buzz, like the engines on the Miran's ship.

Mirans. Something on the ship…

"There is a report on file in the Archives." The Admiral had said. "It states that this planet is a habitable class-4 world, capable of fostering 10 million young."

A report on file. But the report was wrong. They knew it. If they were told to check…

Rose's eyes opened wide.

"Doctor!"

"What about getting on their ships and…"

"No way that would work. Now if we…"

Rose raised her voice. "Doctor! Walker!"

"Think about this, Suzz, we could try to get our TARDISs working in concert, set up at least…"

"Your old 400 model and my 600?"

"They like each other! Be nice, now, and…."

"OI!"

Both of them froze, staring at her. The shout rang around the room.

Finally.

"We know he lied, right? That Rass bloke?"

The Walker blinked.

"Yes."

"And can we prove it?"  
"'Course. Got plenty of information." The Doctor cocked his head. "Where are you heading with this, Rose?"  
She stared at them. Mighty, amazing Time Lords. Two of them. And missing the most obvious thing in the world.

"We have plenty of proof. What if we contacted-whoever? His leaders? His general? Show them what we've got, show them that they're here illegally. They wouldn't want to get into trouble with the Shadow Proclamation either. That'd do it, y'think?"

The Doctor stared at her. His eyes were wide, thoughtful.

"Rose…Rose…I think you've got it!" Suddenly, the Doctor was running around the console. He turned on his heel, clapping his hands.

"Do you see it, Suzz!"

She closed her eyes a moment. And laughed.

"Yes. It'll work!"

"If we move quick!"

The Doctor and the Walker pitched into frenzied motion. Flicking switches, calling back and forth to one another, they moved with a purposeful madness.

"We need that signal they use to transmit!"

"It'll need hacking in on!"

"Try beta level!"

"I am, Grandfather!"

"Can you get the deep-level signal isolated? Hold down both extersors."

"These extersors are ancient!"

"Be nice to the old girl. Try the secondaries. Didn't I say beta level?"

"That's where it is! I think I've almost got the signal-but we're still missing the feed."

"A tick, Walker, give it a tick!" He touched a button-then grabbed the mallet off a wall strut and hit the panel in front of him. Something burbled.

A thin whine built around the room.

"I think we got through the encryption!" The Doctor smiled, then stuck his head under the console. The buzz of the sonic screwdriver mixed into the sound.  
"Yes yes yes." The Walker murmured-then she smacked the console as the sound died away.

"More encryption!"

The Doctor said something emphatic in his native tongue, and the sonic screwdriver whirred at a higher pitch. Fear lanced through Rose. Was he still sick?

"I'm fine, Rose!" he said, his head still out of sight, "It's just the TARDIS being polite."

"She won't translate curses, he means. Most of the time." The Walker touched a few more controls, then sighed.

"It won't pick out the signal, either. The beta sensors aren't tuned finely enough."

"I only retooled them ten years ago!"

"Ten years? Oh, Grandfather!"

The Walker looked down at the legs which stuck out beneath the console. Then she stiffened.

"Grandfather!"

He stuck his head out.

"What?"

Your TARDIS can't find the signal. But mine is younger. She can!"

The Doctor grinned.

"Youth isn't always a virtue, but in this case…Perfect! Everyone to your place, then!"

He slid himself out and bounced to his feet. Giving the console a pat, he dashed after the Walker, who was already out the door.

Half an hour later, most of the Triumvirate was seated in the Walker's sitting room-cum-console room, talking in low voices. Some of them were watching as the Doctor and the Walker worked at the console. A few delegates had gone to check on their families when they'd taken off, and Rose had volunteered to run out and get them, holding on to the directions that the Walker had written down.

It was a good thing she had much to do, the Walker thought. She didn't have time to be depressed by the gloom around her. The delegates were beyond outrage; they were a mixed bag of quiet anger, silent desperation, and shock. Some of them had lost family members and friends already. Around the planet, the arrival of the Miran offspring had caused havoc and injuries. The death toll had been blessedly low; the Havi had found that their telepathic abilities could keep the lizards in a semi-conscious state, rendering them fairly harmless. But it was only a stop-gap measure. They were waiting for her solution.

She closed her mind as much as she could, focusing on her work. She had to move faster. She was close, so close to picking the signal out of the thousands of random beta-level blips. But the system had been well and truly scrambled in its encoding. Maybe- but no. She'd lost it again.

_Calm down, Suzz. _

Her grandfather's voice trickled into her mind. It was almost enough to make her relax. She had faced armies. Landed on several very unpleasant planets. Broken the First law all to splinters by repairing situations as she found them. But never had she been quite as frustrated as she was now. This was her home. And she was letting them down. She spoke into his mind, intending not to upset the Ring any more than necessary.

_The signal keeps slipping away .I can't stabilize it. _

_I know. You're doing the best you can. I can't get it either, so stop blaming yourself._

She took a deep breath. He was right. She was not helping the situation. She sensed her grandfather's approval, though her eyes and hands remained on the controls as she calibrated, trying to lock on to the signal.

_We won't manage it from here. If we move closer to the source of the transmission, the signal will be quite a bit stronger. Want to give it a shot?_

She nodded.

_It may work. If we can connect, once the link is made, the TARDIS can keep it. _

"I shall have to move the ship if I'm to lock on to the signal they use. May I?"

She looked to the three High Triune members, The Havi constituent glanced at his colleges, and inclined his long neck.

"Do what needs to be done, Walker."

She flicked several switches.

"Hold on."

The Walker's TARDIS juddered slightly.

"You kept on beta and delta levels, didn't you?"  
The Walker shot the Doctor an exasperated glance. She'd been piloting for more than a hundred years. She knew how to keep on a signaling wavelength and move at the same time.

"Of course, Grandfather."  
He shrugged, grinning. At least this incarnation was friendly. Fun even, on the surface.

Then the controls below her fingers turned. The signal! She almost had it!

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Lord Admiral. There are transmission signals being picked up."

No messages were expected. This could be a development.

"Open a channel."  
The underling moved to comply. He pushed the proper buttons. Then he pushed them again.

"No message."

"Run a check."

Several officers complied, reading over the inset computers. The most senior of them turned.

"Signal is not being received. It is being transmitted."

"What?"

He checked the computers personally. They were right; a blip pulsed somewhere in the impossible maze of the primitive city. Somewhere near their ship marker. Weak. Intermittent. But existing.

"Is the signal strong enough for contact?"

"No. But it is increasing in strength."

The Time Lords. It had to be the three Time Lords. And they had helped the primitives with their voting process. They had the results. If they transmitted the information to Kai-Mira, his strategy would be known.

Then he would be executed.

He would not allow it.

"The signal is from the Time Lords. They are a threat to Kai-Miran affairs. Destroy them."

His underlings called their men. They would need to pick up the taste of where the Time Lords had walked. A good spoor for tracking prey.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The whine built slowly around the console room.

"Oh, yes yes yes." The Walker murmured to herself. This would work. She could see the brighter future growing clearer all the time. She was changing things properly. In a moment she would-

The TARDIS pitched violently, throwing her against the console.

"What in the name of Rassilon?!"

The ship shuddered again.

"I think we must've gotten on a few nerves!" the Doctor called out. She followed his gaze. He'd opened the viewing screen, and she could see several Mirans pacing around her TARDIS. The one dressed in brown looked to four others, and as one they ran at the ship. The console room rocked.

Another Miran pulled a rather large blaster from the holster around his narrow shoulders, and took a shot. An edge of scorn ran through her mind, mostly from her ship. They had shot at her! Not that it would do much damage. But they wanted to. Rather a lot.

The battering ram of Mirans backed up again.

The Walker pulled three levers in succession.

_Watch this._

The Mirans ran at the door again. And bounced back a few meters from it, tumbling in a disordered heap. A little cheer went up. The Walker shared a grin with her grandfather. Served them for annoying her ship.

"Let's see what they're here for. Where's your com button, Walker?"

"There isn't one."

"Oh, you have gotten good!"

He looked back to the screen, and the Walker felt his mind reach for her TARDIS a moment, asking. The ship checked with her, and agreed. It liked the Doctor, but it didn't know him yet.

They could hear the Mirans hissing now.

"Hello, boys!" the Doctor called. The Mirans looked up.

"Now, what would eight strapping lads like you be knocking on my granddaughter's door for, eh?"

Hissing.

"Okay, no sense of humor. Let's try again. What do you want?"  
Hissing.

"I knew you were a bit thick, but I was pretty sure you had speech abilities. Got anything t'say?"

Hissing. The Mirans stared.

"Oh, come on!"

Hissing.

The Walker mentally nudged her grandfather, and reached out. It wasn't hard; reptilian brains were clear and simple.

"Ah." The Doctor's smile became set. "So, let me take an educated guess. Your Lord doesn't want us having a chat with his Lord. You were told to stop us. A good idea. Very good. I imagine he'll be in a spot of trouble in a bit. Unfortunately, _nothing_ can get into a TARDIS that it doesn't like. That we don't like."

"You are tampering with Miran affairs." The one in brown said.

The Walker laughed.

"And you're tampering with a _planet._ The planet I happen to care for especially. Rather worse to do."

"Tampering with Miran affairs results in execution."

"Rather boring, aren't they?" the Doctor said. "Let's just let them beat their skulls against the shield. Sort of like watching the boxing matches."

The Walker shook her head at him, unable to suppress a smile.

Something had caught the Mirans' attention. As a group they turned; after a moment several broke away.

"If they're going to go back to the ship, tell them to kick the commander for us." the Doctor quipped.

The Miran dressed in brown hissed.

"We carry out our orders. Three Time Lords will die."

"Three?"

The Walker looked to her grandfather, puzzled.

_Three?_

The shock of fear he gave off was like lightning. He looked at her, eyes suddenly wide in alarm.

"Three of us. Three in our group. Rose!"

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

At the moment, Rose was running. She was good at running. Got a lot of practice. But the Mirans were gaining. At least the people she'd been leading had gotten away. She dodged down a side street, squeezed through a narrow space between two stalls.

"What is wrong?" the Havi owner asked her.

"Mirans-chasing." She gasped. The Havi bared his teeth.

"Run. I will see to them."

She nodded her thanks, and dashed on. Nearly there. Nearly there. Something loud was happening behind her. Another two streets. Another corner.

There. The bright blue of the Doctor's TARDIS. The air was filled with the whirring hum. Please don't move!

She put a little sprint on.

Pain knifed through her scalp. One of the great lizards had gotten a hold of her hair.

One stepped in front of her, its mouth open wide. Sharp teeth distended outwards.

She closed her eyes.

_Oh Mum. Oh Doctor. Sorry._

A door slammed, and a buzzing rattled her chest, setting her teeth on edge.

It was nothing compared to the effect it had on the Mirans. Hissing, reeling, they fell to the ground, hands clapped over their muzzles. One stumbled up and ran, reeling. The others rolled about, hissing like kettles. Flame-red frills opened around their necks.

Rose turned. There were the Doctor and the Walker, holding out sonic screwdrivers. The sound emanating from them was a low thrum in her bones.

"Rose. Get behind us." The Doctor's eyes never wavered.

She hurried to his side. He switched off his sonic screwdriver. Beside him, the Walker was breathing hard, her eyes trained on the enemy. Her sonic screwdriver was still held out, and the pitch dropped. The Mirans hissed louder.

"Suzz."

Slowly, the Walker switched off her sonic screwdriver, still staring at the Mirans who glared up at her.

The door of the Walker's TARDIS opened, and a Fanti head poked out.

"Walker! Doctor! The connection! We're through!"

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Twelve scouts had gone out. Four to each Time Lord. They were dead by now. He had won. He took a long look out the window. This was his planet to claim.

The deck door opened, and on the air came the tang of fear and blood. Five of his men rushed in. Blood ran from their ear canals, stained their teeth.

"What has happened?"  
His head scout hissed.

"Speak!"

The officer breathed deeply. His neck frill slowly discolored, relaxed.

"The Time Lords had tools. We could not reach them."

"Failure?"

"We failed."

Failure. The frill around his neck expanded. He dropped to all fours, running to the control bank.

The signal was strong. The messages were being transmitted.

Failure.

Now, he would run. Run, run, run. Not an Admiral. But alive.

He moved to the shuttle bay. Three underlings blocked his way.

"Move."

"We will not be blamed."

Failure. The fear coursed through his blood. Had to get away.

Peeling lips back from his teeth, he lunged.


	10. Chapter 10

10

"H'lo, Great Minister. I'm the Doctor."

They had apparently connected to the Scouting Admiralty. And worked their way up through four levels of governmental twaddle. Explained slowly and carefully just how much danger was involved for the Miran people. Emphasized the danger to them, personally. A bit of mental ability did wonders for that. And with the Walker's help it was no trouble at all. How strong she was these days. It was wonderful.

Now they faced a Miran whose black uniform made its green scales seem to glow.

It looked at the Triumvirate, assembled around three Time Lords. Two and a human, actually, but apparently the Mirans couldn't tell the difference. And three sounded a lot more impressive.

"Time Lords. I had thought that your kind-"

"Yes, yes. But there's a few of us left about. So we can skip the theatrics. Though I do love theatrics. Got to go and see Shakespeare again. Anyway, you have about five million offspring on this planet illegally. This is a class-5 planet, y'know. Completely against the Shadow Proclamation. Your Lord Admiral Rass has played a number of clever tricks to make it look all right. Cheating, really."

"And it will bring the full power of the Shadow Proclamation down on your planet if they find that you sanctioned the act." The Walker added.

The Minister blinked, long and slow.

"Is there proof of this fraudulence?"

"Yep." The Doctor snapped his teeth together. "Loads of it. Whole hard-drives of it. Coming your way as we speak. This is the Triumvirate of Fanti-Havi, and they tabulated the vote for their planet as to whether they wanted to make an alliance with you lot, and that's on its way to you too."

Another long, slow blink.

"A moment."

The screen went blank. Tension ran around the room like chain lightning. But not fear. The Doctor listened to the thoughts roiling around the room. Anger. Warieness, yes. Pride. The special fierce joy of a fight. And no more fear.

He glanced over at Rose. She was tense. But she shot him a smile. He grinned in return.

"Enjoy being a Time Lord?"

"As long as I don't have to talk. Two words an' they'll see right through me."

He shot her a sideways grin.

"Oh, I don't know. You're smart, and these fellows are _particularly _ thick. Whoops…."

The screen had returned to life. The Great Minister stared at them, though his eyes flicked about quite a lot.

"It seems an error has occurred. But there are difficulties."

"Oh?"  
"By law, a planet is responsible for offspring once they touched soil. We have no facilities for their return."

The Walker stepped forward.

"By _law_, they should not be on Fanti-Havi, Minister. We can aid you in finding a suitable, uninhabited planet to house these children. But you must remove them."

The Minister looked off-screen a moment.

"We need time."

"Take two days. No more."

"It will take us far more than two days to find a suitable world."

"Then stay in orbit while you wait. But get the offspring off this planet."

"Think about it, Great Minister." The Doctor said in his most convincing tone.

"A perfectly uninhabited planet. No need to shell out a load of technology for payment. Just drop by in eight years and pick up the adults."

"Who will care for the infants? We cannot lose infants to death. We need a sentient group to care for them"

The Doctor couldn't resist a roll of the eyes. From what he'd seen, they were fairly good at taking care of themselves.

There was a low mutter around the room. He smiled slightly. The Fanti-Havians were a good lot. The thought of dropping this nightmare on some other poor sap made them uncomfortable. So what planet would take some very large lizards as pets?

He ran through a list of planets in his head, glancing at the Walker as he did so. Her eyes were down, fingers slowly running through her hair.

Then her mind gave off a burst of triumph. She looked up-grinned at him-and then faced the screen.

"Great Minister, have you heard of the Classabindi Nursery Fleet?"  
The lizard-like head turned, eyes blank.

"No."

"They're a group of caretakers. For a fee, they create customized care for the offspring of other species. You usually help to mechanize an entire planet that you…allay yourself with?"  
"That is our payment."  
"Then you have well over the price they will ask. The fleet is easily contacted; based in the Classabindi system, the fifth arm of the Aavara Galaxy. "

The Doctor shot her a delighted grin. The Nursery Coalition! Perfect! Absolutely brilliant! They'd jump at such a large contract.

Again that long, slow blink. But the Great Minister's emotions came across clearly. He wanted to acquire this new breeding ground.

"Will you allow us to contact them?"  
The Walker nodded.

"Two days. But after that, Minister, we take steps."

The Doctor nodded. A smile quirked his lips.

"Better get cracking!"

It took quite a bit less than two days. Less than a day, in fact. Eight hours later, the Mirans sent a message; their offspring would be collected in two hours. And the Miran ships would leave the moment the little monsters were picked up.

A cheer so loud it rocked the TARDIS burst forth, the moment the screen flicked off. And the delagates, joyful, began to rush out. They had to tell their world.

Around the city, the continent, the world, the message went out. House to house, mouth to mouth.

A little Sar, so young that gills still covered much of his body, ran into Sarkari's house. Sarkari grabbed the boy, lifting him away from the lizard that was still deadly despite its lethargy. Thak barely blinked, all his concentration on the animal.

The child, the youngest of his friend Suka, had his mouth open, gasping. His gills flapped.

"Take a breath, Bet." Sarkari said, patting the boy, "Use your lungs. Just the lungs, remember."

The boy gulped.

"Mam-mam-mamma sent me…sent me-to tell you…"

The mates traded a look. What now?"

"Tell us what, Bet?"

"That….that…that-"

"Take another breath, Bet." Barsali took the child, seating him beside her. Slowly, his gills relaxed.

"Mamma sent me to…tell you…that the Walker won! She…made the lizards…pr-promise to…take their babies…take them away."  
Sarkari's ears perked so far forward that they hurt.

"Take them away? When? How soon?"

"By…by moonrise."

Waiting truly took the spring out of their tails. Barsali made food and drink for everyone, feeding Thak to keep his strength up. Sarkari played with Bet and several other children outside. And everyone watched the sky. The light faded...faded…and the moon rose. Ah, that beautiful Moon Lady, with her orange fur banded in cream. Setting little Lat down, he rushed inside.

The lizard was still there. His ears drooped. Barsali looked at him, a whine building in her throat. And-but wait. That wasn't Barsali. That was…

A blue-white beam enveloped the lizard. Its sinuous body lifted, rose…and disappeared. The light faded. Darkness.

For a moment, time stood still. Silence.

Then Barsali jumped into his arms with a happy yip. They both embraced Thak, yodeling out their joy and relief. He added his own deep purr, lowering his neck between them.

Safe. They were safe.

They were free!


	11. Chapter 11

11

As the moon rose high in the sky, a new festival began. Everything left from the Day of Colors was unpacked again, and more. Flowers poured into the Fertile City, bright banners went up on every wall. Laughter reigned in every house. Even those in mourning joined the celebration, commemorating their loved ones.

Decorations for every festival mixed together; illuminators from the Day of Light were hung high, shining below the glittering globes of Star Night, levitating in the air. The brightest costumes were unpacked, even for the children who would only get them dirty. It didn't matter.

Music sprang up, slow and sporadic at first, but soon becoming a constant stream as more and more bands pulled out their instruments. Dancing followed quickly, swirling into every corner of the city. Bells and rattles stirred in the music, jangling as they moved on the legs of the Havi. Gold and bronze suns hung from the ears of the Fanti, glinting as they danced. Scented scarves moved like wings, tied to the arms of dancers.

In one corner of the city, the dancers moved to a strange and beautiful new music. Something called Three-dog-night.

The Doctor spun Rose round and round, then danced a jig with a Sar half his height. He leaped into the air. Relief. Joy. Love. Pride. It coursed through the air; he breathed it in, savoring the notes of emotion as he did the music. Oh what a night! What a night!

A Havi grabbed the Doctor's shirt in its teeth, and lifted him up, putting him on its back. He laughed, balancing like a trick-rider. The skin of his arms tingled with swirls of paint and bright blooms of color. Even his hair had stripes of paint in it, like the Fanti around him, who looked like they'd been dipped in a child's set of colors. He spotted the Walker spinning through the crowd, and made a leap from his mount.

"Hey, little Walker!"

A rainbow of colors had been streaked through her hair like the tail of a comet. Stars and suns had been painted on her face, her hands, swirling up her arms and melding with the bright, nebula-hued dress she wore. She laughed, her dark eyes alight and shining.

"Oh Grandfather! Grandfather!"

"I know!!" There were no words for the beauty of the moment. They laughed together, their minds open to one another and the world. How good it felt. How very _right_. The Doctor had heard the stories of heaven. Stories from many cultures. Well, in his book, this was it.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The Walker and the Doctor had helped Rose sync her IPod to their TARDISs, who worked in perfect harmony to blaze the sound into the warm air. Cascada, Katy Perry, Leona Lewis and Pink, Billy Joel and Pat Benetar; everything upbeat, full of joy. The Sar were amazing musicians, and they joined into the music, though the melodies were something they had never heard anything like. Flute and drum blended with impossible perfection into electric guitar and synthesizer. The warbling voices of the Fanti rose in song.

Rose had bells on her feet. She had paint in her hair. And she was dancing like a prat. But in a good way; the dress she'd been given shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow as she moved. A Sar took her hand, and they danced something between be-bop and the waltz.

_See that man all dressed in green_

_Iko Iko Inay_

_He's not a man he's a loving machine!_

They spun like separate planets.

_Hey now_

_Hey Now_

_Iko Iko Unday!_

The music changed again, speeding the dance. Rose laughed. She'd danced to this in her ninth year! The music spun out.

_Callin' out around the world  
Are you ready for a brand new beat?  
Summer's here and the time is right  
For dancin' in the streets  
They're dancin' in Chicago  
Down in New Orleans  
Up in New York City_

And they were dancing on Fanti-Havi! __

All we need is music, sweet music  
There'll be music everywhere  
There'll be swingin', swayin' and records playin'  
And dancin' in the streets

Horns and flutes followed the guitar riffs.

"Dancing in the street is right!"

And there was the Doctor, done up like a circus-man. He was stripped to the waist, and every inch of him, chest, face, arms and back had been painted, starting with a great design of a water droplet sending out ripples, plastered over his pectorals.

"Nice bucket of paint!"

He looked down, then back at her, grinning like a kid.

"Their symbol for a doctor. Nice, aye?"

She laughed until her sides were sore.

"Don't you dare wash until I get a picture of you!"

"Walker said she would! She'll give us copies. Oh!" He jumped into the air as the next song started.

"I love this one Rose! Come on!"

The dancing went on for untold hours. When revelers could dance no longer they sat together, telling tales and singing. The Doctor and the Walker were welcome everywhere, with their wondrous tales to tell. Even Rose was begged to imitate Scottish brogue and tell about werewolves and strange sea-creatures. And the music. It carried them all, weaving them together.

The sun had risen high in the sky before the Doctor made his way back to his TARDIS. He stepped gingerly around sleeping friends, splayed out without a care in the galaxy. He breathed deep, savoring the flowers and spices, endorphins and baking odors. Reaching the door, he paused a moment, and looked out on a world radiant with joy. He sighed happily. He often saved planets. But very rarely did he celebrate the victory.

In the distance, another band began to play. The Doctor shook his head. Where did they get the energy?

Still grinning, he walked inside and flopped down in the console chair. Bits of paint flaked in every direction. He leaned his head back, breathing deep. The hum of the TARDIS enveloped him. She was just as happy as he was, old girl, and overjoyed to be parked next to another of her own kind, someone else to talk to properly. The Walker's TARDIS had taken to her famously. Which, he supposed, made a lot of sense. He listened to her chuckles and deep internal burbling. How he'd missed her when he'd been sick. He sent his emotions out, and the central column glowed bright. She'd missed him, too.

The door creaked open, and the Walker came in, Rose in her arms.

"Found her sleeping on Thak; Havi friend of mine. Where should I put her?"

"Let's go and sit in my room, shall we? I'll carry her."

"I have it."

"And you've got to tell me why everyone knows you here. From the Triune down. You're like a legend. Did you just put up a banner saying 'Hello, Walker here'?"

She laughed at the joke in his voice.

"I'm no legend. Just a friend. I enjoy being here. And they accept me. Part of the charm of this planet. Havi respond to strange things with interest, Sar have a deep need to learn. And the Fanti-well, you've met them. They'll be friends with anyone who lets them talk. I didn't have to hide anything here."

"I can see why you like it. Nice lot, they are. This'd happened on Earth, there would have been a real mess."

"I can imagine. Comes from growing out of primates. Curiosity is the driving force here."

"Well, that can be a problem too."

The Walker laughed.

"I said curiosity, Grandfather. Not your brand of madness."

He grinned, shrugging. Curiosity had always been his weakness. Even when he was her age.

The music followed them down the hall. The door to his room was unusually close to the console room. Nice of the old girl. He opened it, holding it for his granddaughter.

"Go ahead and set her on my sleep mat. "

She did, and he grabbed his lovely brown coat, draping it over Rose. Looking at the sleeping figure, the Time Lords smiled.

"She looks so young." The Walker murmured.

The Doctor chuckled.

"She's about your age. Relatively speaking."

The Walker nodded.

"But I think I fit a bit more in." She looked at her grandfather, and smiled.

In the background, a new song began in a wail of harmonica.

He met her eyes, smiling in return. But his emotions shifted from the pure joy she had felt.

"What is it?"

He cocked his head.

"Am I that transparent?"

She smiled.

"You've been around humans too long. Your emotions are wide open."

He nodded. His smile was small now, quiet.

Billy Joel sang.

_Everybody wants to hear the secrets  
That you never told a soul before  
And it's not that strange  
Because it wouldn't change  
what happened anyhow_

But you swore to yourself a long time ago  
There were some things that people never needed to know  
Guess there's one that you keep  
That you bury so deep  
No one can tear it out  


"You've got our sigil on your forehead. Just noticed."

Startled, the Walker peered at herself in the chrome of the Doctor's sleep shelf. He was right. Amidst the stars on her skin, in deep blue, shone the double spiral of Infinity. Sigil of Time Lords. She moved a hand to it.

_And you can't talk about it  
Because you're following a code of silence  
You're never gonna to lose the anger  
You just deal with it a different way_

_  
_"Someone must have seen it on my ship."

"Don't-" He stopped her restless hand.  
"Don't rub it off. It's-rather nice to see, really. And you're old enough to wear it properly."

She nodded. Silence fell.

_And you still have a rage inside you  
That you carry with a certain pride  
In the only part of the broken heart  
That you could ever save_

But you've been through it once  
You know how it ends  
You don't see the point  
Of going through it again  
And this ain't the place  
And this ain't the time  
And neither's any other day

So you can't talk about it  
Because you're following a code of silence  
You're never gonna to lose the anger  
You just deal with it a different way  


The Walker met her grandfather's eyes. She had to tell him, had to explain why she hadn't been there when she should have been.

"I tried to get home, Grandfather. But every which way I turned, I was blocked. We were. Just kept fighting, and fighting and…."

His eyes were turned inward, watching memories. "Something like that on my end. Everyone had a brilliant plan. Most worked. There were just…too many fronts to fight on. Back. Forwards. In space."

"If I'd tried…"

_I know you well enough to tell you've got your reasons  
That's not the kind of code you're inclined to break  
Some things unknown are best left alone forever  
And if a vow is what it takes  
Haven't you paid for your mistakes_

No. Her mistakes would never be paid for. People had died because she was too young and stupid to save them. Her planet was _gone_. And she hadn't been there to defend it.

Her grandfather gave her a small smirk.

"Oh, one half-grown kid would have changed the whole battle? Don't think like that, Suzz. I did. For ten years. Near drove me mad. We did what we had to do."

She could see it. His pain. His shock. It had literally killed him; he'd let himself die just after the destruction. But the memory of the end itself was blocked from her. Probably blocked from himself. Tears pricked her eyes. Damn, she hated to cry.

_And it's hard to believe after all these years  
That it still gives you pain and it still brings tears  
And you feel like a fool  
Because in spite of your rules  
You've got a memory_

But you can't talk about it  
Because you're following a code of silence  
You're never gonna to lose the anger  
You just deal with it a different way

_  
_She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

"For a young people, humans do have a tendency to hit the nail on the head. Code of silence. That's us."

Her grandfather listened to the music.

"Yeah. Suppose they do. Thirty years. And I still…"

_But you can't talk about it  
And isn't that a kind of madness  
To be living by a code of silence  
When you've really got a lot to say_

The Walker breathed deep. She needed her voice to be steady.

"There's so much I don't…understand. Especially in that…..that last year."

He smiled ruefully.

"Yes. I was there. And some of it I can't make sense of myself."

He turned, meeting her eyes and mind.

"Like why I'm alive. I should have died, Suzz."

She nodded. Her fingers bunched in the red grass, releasing a scent she had missed so much.

"So should I. When… when I got home, I thought I would. I _wished_ I would, Grandfather."

The music had ceased.

Folding in on herself, his granddaughter rested her chin on her knee, as she had three hundred years ago, a child waiting for a story. But now she had stories too. He could see the battles in her mind, hear the death. She had fought as well. He wished he could have kept her from it. But he hadn't been able to keep anyone safe. Not in the end. They'd told him to protect the universe. He'd been ordered, and he'd been asked. And he had acted.

So had she. He could see it.

Slowly, carefully, two minds shared memories. A child held tight to her grandfather. Two hearts would surely crack with the pain. But maybe four hearts, beating together, would last.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Three days had passed, and the Festival of Joy was just winding down. It seemed that the three of them had spent every second together. Or, at least, every second Rose wasn't sleeping. Though the Time Lords' eyes been red the morning after the victory, when Rose woke, they'd been laughing together as they removed the program blocking their senses from the Walker's TARDIS. They'd traded quite a lot back and forth; books got copied, including all of the Walker's All Creatures Great and Small series, and Marnal Gates's books. The Doctor gave his granddaughter cuttings of all his Gallifreyan plants, helping her install them in a hydroponic room that her TARDIS suddenly had on hand. The Walker got Rose to help her carry spare parts over to the Doctor's ship. She even offered him a spare chameleon circuit to replace the TARDIS's, which, of course, the Doctor refused.

"The phone-box look is good! I've grown rather attached to it."

They traded memory cubes as well, copying pictures of family and friends, landscapes and adventures. They even ended up dragging out the cricket gear, which meant that now several bats had tooth marks where Havi had held them in their mouths to play.

And they talked. Long and sometimes loud. Where they'd been. What they'd seen. Favorite places were recommended, and danger zones were traded. Best ways to move the ship. The Doctor insisted the Walker still had a lot to learn on that front. She had broke the tie by asking how often the Doctor got his dates wrong.

"Below the belt!" he'd said.

It had been wonderful.

But there came a time when they embraced in farwell.

"You sure you won't come with us?" the Doctor asked.

"My ol' girl has plenty of space for yours inside."

She smiled and shook her head, her dark hair bobbing.

"I'm the Walker. I choose my own path. And I still have quite a lot to do here."

The Doctor smiled, his scruffy hair blown in the warm breeze.

"You really do love it here."

The Walker nodded.

"Earth is your special place. Fanti-Havi is mine."

She smiled again. Then she buried her face in the pinstripe of his suit.

The Doctor smiled awkwardly at Rose, patting the Walker's shoulder.

"Oof! Careful, you'll crack a rib."

The Walker giggled, pulling away.

"And you'll come again. Soon!"

"Course! And you track me down some time! No more than ten years between visits, tops!"

"Yes Grandfather."

She stepped back, smiling.

"Well, cheerio, then! Isn't that what they say on Earth? Or have I got it wrong?"

Rose and the Doctor exchanged a smile and a shake of the head. Together, they walked into the TARDIS. The Walker waved until dematerialization was complete.

The Doctor leaned against the console, a small smile on his face. He ran a hand down the central column. Then he bounced around, and grinned at Rose.

"Right! Where to?"

Rose shrugged.

"Your choice."

The Doctor's deep eyes sparkled.

"Then I know the ticket. We'll go see Billy Joel. In concert. America or Russia?"  
Rose sat up. "Billy Joel as in the singer?"

"Who else? Should be loads of fun."

"Just don't land us in Cheronobyl."

He gave her his manic grin, and took off around the console. Off to another time, another place. But in all the time streams, he could now sense one tiny spark. Like an ember. Like a candle. It made the universe a slightly less lonely place.

It made his hearts expand.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Years and parsects away, the Walker tidied her TARDIS. All the guests had left the place a shambles. She used the front of her shirt as a basket, picking up misplaced objects and putting them where they belonged when she got there. The TARDIS had cleaned any messes, but she wasn't particular about object placement. The Walker was.

Finally, she was near done. Walking down a wide cream corridor, she felt for her own room. The door opened on to the plush carpet she loved so. Humming, the Walker set trinkets back where they had wandered from.

Pulling three cubes from the folds of her shirt, she set them on a long, low shelf with others of their kind. Some were permanently on, displaying handsome vistas. Others were dark, filled with things she'd rather not see each day.

She patted the last cube, then caressed the surface with two fingers. Her smooth face was lit by the white brilliance of its wake sequence for a moment. It was good to know that, on another ship, these same images rested with many others. She watched the three brightly painted figures dancing in a circle, two girls and a thin man covered in color. She smiled, humming along to Three Dog Night's 'Road to Shambala'. Still smiling, she crossed the room, and closed the door.

And the dance went on.


End file.
